


Friends Reunited in Milsom Bay

by Ytteb



Series: Milsom Bay [13]
Category: NCIS
Genre: Angst, Drama, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-05-07 06:29:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 24,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19203799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ytteb/pseuds/Ytteb
Summary: Gibbs pays a visit to Tony in Milsom Bay … trouble follows although not quite as you might expect.Please don't be put off reading if you haven't read the previous stories set in Milsom Bay - I'll explain things as I go along and each story is complete in itself.Unexpected epilogue now added …





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warning – if you don't like cliff hangers you might want to wait until a couple more chapters are up before starting to read ...

Tony DiNozzo sang quietly to himself as he set out the chairs in the Milsom Bay Community Hall.  He wouldn’t say that everything was wonderful in his life at the moment, but he would manage – he usually did.  He turned around at the sound of the door opening and nodded a greeting as he saw his former boss Leroy Jethro Gibbs striding towards him in his customary purposeful way.

“DiNozzo,” came the greeting along with an outstretched hand.

Tony instinctively put out his own hand and it was only as Gibbs, with practised technique, slapped handcuffs on him and pinioned his hands behind his back that Tony remembered that Gibbs had hardly ever shaken him by the hand.

“What the hell!” he demanded in outrage, “What the hell are you doing, Gibbs?”

Gibbs didn’t answer but pushed him towards one of the sturdy chairs Tony had been setting out.  Tony struggled as Gibbs sat him down and drew out a length of rope from a pocket.

“Stop it!” ordered Gibbs.

It had been a number of years since Tony had worked for Gibbs but that tone of voice was one which he usually still instinctively obeyed – but not this time and he continued to push back and shout at Gibbs.  Gibbs frowned at him and then lifted his arm and delivered a stunning blow to Tony’s head.

When Tony next became aware of what was going on it was to find himself securely anchored to the chair.  The cuffs had been removed but his arms had been threaded through the supports at the back and tied firmly at the wrists and each ankle was tied to a chair leg.

Gibbs stood back and surveyed his handiwork.  Tony felt like one of Gibbs’ woodworking projects but continued to struggle and protest,

“Gibbs!  Let me go!  Have you gone mad or something?”

“Shut up,” ordered Gibbs apparently unmoved by the protests.

Tony continued his rant although he was beginning to run out of new things to say.  He stopped talking when he saw Gibbs draw a large handkerchief from his pocket and begin to shape it into a gag,

“Open up,” he ordered.

Tony kept his mouth firmly closed, recognising that Gibbs wanted to put the gag between his teeth.  Gibbs sighed and moved forward to squeeze Tony’s nostrils closed.  Tony glared at Gibbs and prepared to wait him out.  He should, of course, have known that he couldn’t _wait Gibbs out_ , the man’s patience was legendary but, at that moment, Tony was just playing for time in the hope that someone would wander in and stop this madness.

After a couple of minutes, Tony was forced to open his mouth to take a breath and, quick as lightning, Gibbs had put a pencil between his teeth to prevent him closing it again.  And then, before Tony could spit the pencil out, the cloth was bound tightly through his mouth and the pencil was removed.

“This way you can mouth breathe if you need to,” said Gibbs in explanation.

Tony simply glared at him without any hint of being grateful for this consideration.  Gibbs stood back once more, ignoring the mumbles that Tony was managing to get past the gag.  Tony stilled as he decided it would be best to look compliant so Gibbs would, hopefully, leave allowing Tony to put a nascent plan into operation.

Gibbs looked at his handiwork and nodded thoughtfully before drawing out some more rope.  He stooped and tied Tony’s knees to the chair legs.  He then went to the back of the chair, lifted and bent Tony’s arms a little before tying his elbows to its back.  Tony found that he couldn’t move a muscle in any of his limbs.  His plan began to look more difficult.

Gibbs stood back once more and then glanced towards the window.  He nodded again in a way that Tony was began to distrust and then dragged the chair and Tony out of sight of the window.  It turned out that he still had rope to spare and he used one length to secure Tony around the upper chest to the chair.

Tony gazed back at Gibbs impassively, deciding that disdain might be a better tactic.  Something like an amused smile quirked Gibbs’ lips and then he walked to a wall cabinet and tested something on its door.  With yet another worrying nod, he looped a piece of rope through a metal handle on the cabinet and then tied the other end to the back of the chair.

Tony growled furiously.

“Figured you might be planning to walk the chair to the door,” said Gibbs blandly, “Don’t think you’ll be doing that now.”

Tony reverted to disdain: manoeuvring the chair to the door had indeed been his plan although it would already have been difficult given that he was roped so securely.

“You’ll be OK, Tony,” said Gibbs.  He looked at his watch, “’Nother four hours and the meeting begins.  Someone will be along in a few hours.”

He looked once more at Tony and, for a moment, Tony almost expected him to say _sorry_ but the moment passed, and Gibbs simply walked away, closing the door quietly behind him.

Left behind, Tony was prey to conflicting emotions: he was outraged at the position he found himself in but also completely bewildered at what Gibbs had done.  A tiny part of him thought that perhaps he should regard it as some sort of backhanded compliment that Gibbs had felt it necessary to have tied him up so thoroughly and inventively but Tony thought this probably showed that he was all too accustomed to making lemonade out of lemons in his dealings with Gibbs.

Tony tried clenching and relaxing his muscles in the hope that this might begin to loosen his bonds but he had no expectation that would work: this was, after all, Gibbs’ handiwork.  He looked around the room trying to think of something which could help him escape, always assuming he could somehow make his way to this magical device.

A few minutes had passed when Tony heard the door open.  A wave of relief flooded through him; Gibbs’ madness must have passed or perhaps some Milsom Bay resident had decided to get an early seat for the upcoming meeting.

“Hah!” came a surprised voice, “Leroy did a better job than I thought!”

Tony couldn’t slump because he was tied so tightly but his heart sank at these words.  The man standing in front of him wore a balaclava to hide his face, but Tony recognised the voice as belonging to Barry Dinkerly who now leant over Tony and checked the ropes,

“Huh!  Don’t think you’re getting out of there in a hurry!”

Tony mumbled something that was probably not a compliment.

“Don’t think we want you making a noise, though,” said Dinkerly in an amused voice.  He pulled a roll of duct tape out of his pocket and then said,

“I need something to cut it with, don’t I?”

Tony scowled back at him, fairly sure that he carried some sort of very efficient knife on his person.

“Now, where could I find one?  Ah, I know.”  He reached out a gloved hand to Tony’s belt and pulled at the buckle until it revealed his hidden knife.  He pulled it out and waved it in front of Tony’s eyes, “Now, that’s not very nice, is it?  Could be dangerous.  I think I should confiscate it, don’t you?”  He laughed unpleasantly before using the knife to cut a length of tape.

Dinkerly pressed the tape firmly over Tony’s mouth leaving the gag in place.  “Must make sure I make a good job of it,” he whispered as he almost lovingly ran his fingers over the tape to make sure it had stuck and was completely smooth with no air bubbles.  Then he nodded in a way reminiscent of Gibbs’ earlier gestures and cut another length, “Just to make sure,” he said softly into Tony’s ear before placing the additional layer of duct tape as slowly and thoroughly as before.

Dinkerly stepped back for a moment and then, like Gibbs before him, reached out a hand and squeezed Tony’s nostrils closed, “Want to make sure, don’t I?” he chuckled.

Unprepared and stressed, Tony soon began to choke.  Dinkerly released his nose and patted him on the cheek, “Yeah, I think that’s worked.”

Tony resumed scowling at his tormentor.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be gone soon.  Nearly done.  But I don’t think you need to know about the next bit.”

Tony’s eyes widened in alarm although he was trying not to betray any fear.  Dinkerly moved to the back of the chair and wrapped an arm around Tony’s neck,

“Been a while since I did this,” he murmured conversationally, “Hope I remember how to do it.”

Tony swallowed anxiously as he remembered the Marine technique of snapping someone’s neck.  He felt Dinkerly exerting pressure until everything went dark and he and lost consciousness.  Dinkerly continued the pressure for a few more seconds to make absolutely sure that Tony was out cold.

Dinkerly took out a small tool kit and a bundle of newspapers from his duffel bag and moved across the room to an electric heater.  He opened up the heater and pulled at some wires.  He spotted a pile of cushions in a corner and took the heater over there.  He carried the newspapers over and drenched them with water from a bottle in his bag.  He looked around and found the fuse box and rummaged in it for a few seconds.  He then went back to the heater and switched it on, he watched for a few moments until he saw sparks flying and alighting on the heap of cushions and newspaper.  It wasn’t long before a wisp of smoke began to arise.

Dinkerly went back to Tony and looked down at him before apparently coming to a decision,

“I think you should be awake for this!”  He slapped Tony across the face and then flung the remains of the water at him.  As Tony began to stir, he leaned forward, “Leroy sends his love!” he hissed in Tony’s ear.

Tony heard the door slam shut behind his most recent attacker and shook his head to clear it.  How, he wondered, had he got into this latest mess?

 


	2. Chapter 2

PREVIOUSLY

Tony was sitting in one of his favourite places in the world – Millie Lacey’s café on the seafront at Milsom Bay.  He couldn’t sit watching a glorious sunset without being grateful for the odd chance which had led to him finding this place on the North Carolina coast.  Tony had intended to be just passing through but had ended up buying a beach hut and plot of land from John Sutherland, a local artist.  Over the years the hut had been extended to make a house large enough for him to live in with his newly acquired daughter Tali and their housekeeper/nanny Alice Hardman.

Tony and Tali’s main home was in Raleigh where he had a job as CAFALO (Community and Federal Liaison Officer) with the Raleigh Police Department although he had recently had a spell as Chief while Laura Martin was on maternity leave.  The _federal liaison_ part of his job title had meant that he had sometimes worked with NCIS and he had, in any case, remained friends with his former co-workers.  Ellie Bishop and Tim McGee were two of Tali’s godparents and were extremely diligent ones making sure to pay frequent visits.

All in all, Tony often reflected, Milsom Bay had been a good (although not unadventurous) place for him to be.  He and Tali spent most of their free weekends in the Bay where they were well fed by Millie.  The other attraction of Milsom Bay was meeting up with Ruskin.  Ruskin was a dog acquired by Tony during a case and who now made his home with Millie where he was a general favourite with everyone although, he was secretly pleased to know, Tony was still his favourite.

Now, with a few minutes of quiet, Tony sipped a cup of perfect coffee and took a bite out of Millie’s perfect coffee and walnut cake.  Life was … well, nowhere near _perfect_ but Millie’s cooking healed a lot of ills.  The moment was broken by the sound of a familiar voice,

“DiNozzo!”

“Boss!”

“Not your Boss,” said Gibbs.  It was a familiar response.

“Maybe when you’ve retired …”

“Retired?” asked Gibbs in an offended tone.

Tony grinned, “I was just saying … maybe when you don’t have the federal agent vibe going on … what am I saying, you’ll always have that vibe.  And if you don’t have _that_ vibe, you’ll still have the Marine _stand up and pay attention_ vibe!”

“What you talking about, DiNozzo?”

“Just saying, it’s still hard for me not to think of you as Boss, notBoss.”

“Whatever,” shrugged Gibbs and then he smiled at Millie who had seen him come in and had hastened to bring him coffee in the largest mug the café owned.

“Nice to see you, Agent Gibbs,” she smiled back.  Tony’s arrival at the Bay had been triggered by a falling out with Gibbs but any initial distrust she’d had of him had long been forgotten.  “Would you like a piece of coffee cake?”

Gibbs nodded and she went away to cut a generous slice.

“What you doing here, Gibbs?” asked Tony, relaxing a little now he knew that his own slice of cake was safe.

“Got some vacation time to use up,” said Gibbs vaguely, “Thought I’d come and see how you’re doing.”

Tony found his eyes narrowing a little in suspicion.  Gibbs was never at a loose end but was always purposeful and focussed.

“Where’s Tali?” asked Gibbs looking around him.  It was unusual to see Tony in Milsom Bay without his daughter nearby.

Tony smiled a smile which had elements of both delight and despondency,

“Kit and Andi – you know, Millie’s son and daughter-in-law – they won this prize to Disneyland.  Two adults and three children.  And they’ve just got Joe and Pippa of their own, so they offered to take Tali with them.”

“And she went?”

Tony looked rueful, “Turns out that if it’s a choice between Daddy and Disneyland, well … you see me alone and abandoned.”

“Taking it hard, huh?”

Tony looked embarrassed, “Who’d have thunk it?  Anthony DiNozzo … _Very_ Special Anthony DiNozzo, pining for his daughter.”

“Nothing to be ashamed of, DiNozzo.”

“I know,” said Tony defensively, “But still … it’s not the image I expected.”

“Life tends to do that,” said Gibbs philosophically, “Don’t think many things work out like you think.”

“I guess.  And we speak on the phone every day.  Or, to be accurate, she shrieks down the phone at me and I just say _yes_ and _no, be good_ and _remember to say thank you_ as required.”

“And you love it,” said Gibbs shrewdly.

“True.”

Millie arrived with Gibbs’ slice of cake and ignored Tony’s sharp look to check it wasn’t bigger than his.  She patted Gibbs on the shoulder,

“Let me know if you want another piece.  Tony’s on his third already!”

Tony waited until Millie had gone before saying,

“So, what are you really doing down here, Gibbs?”

For a moment it looked as if Gibbs was going to stick to his story of a casual filling-time vacation but then he shrugged, “Old buddy of mine is working down here.  Thought I’d come and see him.”

“What’s he working on?”

“The Pink House.”

The Pink House, or to give it its correct title of Caldwell Mansion, was a large house built in the 1930s in a secluded spot down the coast from Milsom Bay.  The house had been empty for years but had recently, finally, found a buyer in the Marine Corps who intended to use it as a place for rest and recuperation for Marines from nearby Camp LeJeune.  The Pink House had always had an attraction for Tony, not least because its original owner had hosted parties for Hollywood stars there.

“Don’t think the Corps are going to stick with Pink House as a name,” commented Tony.

“Figure it’ll take a while for people around here not to call it that.”

“It’s on the National Register of Historic Places,” said Tony, “So they’d probably have to ask permission if they wanted to paint it green.”

“I guess people are just happy it’s been sold at last?”

“Yeah.  And the Bay’s got good relations with Camp LeJeune.  The conversion work’s taking longer than expected but the Assistant Chief of Staff is coming down tomorrow to hold a meeting for the townspeople.”

“There a problem?”

“Not really.  Just making sure everything gets off to a good start.  Someone started a rumour that there would be Marines with mental health issues staying in the House and well, you know, how people like to worry.  The Camp want to reassure people.  They want people staying in the Pink House – or to give it its new title – the Marine Corps Caldwell Rehabilitation Centre, to feel able to come into the town and be welcomed.”

“Fair enough,” agreed Gibbs, “You expecting a problem?”

“No.”

“Then why are you down here?  You know, in the middle of the week when you haven’t got Tali.”

“Can’t get anything past you, eh?”  Gibbs gazed back expressionlessly.  “The work’s been suspended.  I’ve been involved with … some investigation.”

“Didn’t think that was in your job description anymore.”

“Laura … the Chief is back at work now.  I’m back being CAFALO and, although it’s not in the job title, I can liaise with the Marine Corps and US Navy if needed.”

“Why didn’t they call in NCIS?  Or did they involve the case worker at Norfolk?”

Tony shrugged, “I don’t tell them their business.  And, in any case, the work’s being done by civilian contractors and the … issue … doesn’t have anything to do with Marine Corps security.”

“Huh,” Gibbs’ tone of voice implied that he wasn’t happy at NCIS not being called in.

Belatedly, Tony remembered that Gibbs had said that his friend was working at the Pink House, “So, what’s your buddy’s name?  I might know him.”

“Barry Dinkerly.  He got the contract for the rewiring, putting in new lighting and installing some sort of new light therapy suites … didn’t understand much of it.”

“I see.  How do you know him, Gibbs?”

“We served together.  He was a lance corporal in my Company.  Good man.”

Tony nodded slowly, “You’ve known him a long time then?”

“Sure.  Lost touch for a while, both left the Corps, but he reached out a few days ago.”

“Ah.  Did he mention that the work has stopped, pending an investigation?”

“He mentioned it.”

“Did he mention an annoying Raleigh PD lieutenant giving him grief?”

Gibbs grinned fleetingly, “He mentioned it.”

“And that’s why you’re here?  To make sure I don’t screw the pooch?”

“Like I said, Dink’s a good man.  Deserves to be listened to, treated with respect.  He served his country with honour.”

“I hear you, Gibbs,” said Tony a little stiffly, “I’ll bear that in mind.”  He thought about telling Gibbs his real opinion of Barry Dinkerly but decided it would be better to let Gibbs make his own judgement.  Besides, he might be wrong: the Gibbs’ gut might not be scientific but had a good record of accuracy: perhaps he needed to take Gibbs’ opinion of Dinkerly as a _good man_ into account.

“That’s all I ask,” said Gibbs with equal stiffness.

“You need a bed while you’re here?” asked Tony.  “Alice stayed in Raleigh, taking a vacation while Tali’s away.  You can have her room or there’s a couch if you prefer – not lumpy, I’m afraid but you can always take the floor if you get too comfortable!”

“No need.  I’ve got somewhere to rack.”

Tony nodded but didn’t ask for more details; somehow, he suspected he knew where Gibbs was sleeping that night.

Tony had agreed to set the Milsom Bay Community Hall up for the meeting to be held at 3pm.  It was his day off so he could have the rest of the day free, he had a leisurely breakfast at Millie’s and then they both strolled down into the town with Ruskin.  Tony planned to set out the chairs and then go for a long walk along the beach while Millie was paying a visit to Dr Murray’s clinic.  Millie wasn’t ill but rather was delivering a batch of rosemary shortbread to Dr Mallard who was, as often was the case, acting as Doc Murray’s stand-in.

“I really want Dr Mallard’s opinion,” she said as she left Tony at the Hall, “He has the most discerning palette I have ever come across.”

“What about mine?” protested Tony.

Millie laughed, “If it was pizza, I’d come to you,” she promised.  “Come on, Ruskin, come with me.  You’ll just get bored watching Tony put out chairs.  And you know that Dr Mallard has those special dog treats.”

Ruskin was a biddable dog and went off with Millie happily enough.  Tony watched them go and then unlocked the door to the Hall.  It wasn’t a building that was used very often, partly because it was some distance from the centre of the town.  It was in need of refurbishment and had got a little shabby but it was the only building in Milsom Bay large enough to take the number of people expected at the meeting.

PRESENT

Even as Tony tried to get his senses in order, he became aware of a new smell.  Whether by accident or design, Dinkerly had placed the heater in Tony’s line of sight and he soon saw the smoke rising lazily to the ceiling.  Tony saw the smouldering cushions and remembered that they were about to be thrown out because they didn’t meet current fire regulation safety standards.  He groaned and then sighed as best he could as he realised that the groan was almost completely muffled by the gag and the double layer of duct tape so meticulously applied.

Tony told himself to be calm; it would be easy to panic but clear thought and planning were what would get him out of this mess.  He decided that he would have to try his original plan of shuffling the chair to the door or perhaps find some way of breaking a window.  Tony tried rocking the chair in the hope that the door of the cabinet would open and allow some movement and, after a while, the door did fly open: the sudden movement sent Tony crashing to the ground with no prospect of getting up again.

“Crawling it is,” he muttered to himself and began trying to wriggle away.  He wished the knife was still in his belt although he could see no way that he would have been able to get to it.  He managed to move a few inches before coming to a halt, the rope was very short, and he had already reached its limit. 

Tony looked across at the fire: the dampness of the cushions and newspapers was preventing it from really getting going but was generating a lot of unpleasant smelling smoke.   Tony next attempted to see if he could lift himself up slightly and then drop down and somehow tug the door off the cabinet to allow him a measure of freedom.  He soon discovered, however, that he couldn’t generate enough momentum to do anything other than harmlessly bounce off the floor and generate more bruises.

After a fourth failed attempt, Tony paused to try and gather his thoughts but he was now struggling to breathe both from his exertion and the increasing volume of smoke.  He wondered if perspiration would loosen the duct tape but wasn’t sure how he could take advantage of that possibility apart from rubbing his face on the floor to try and loosen the tape.   He coughed weakly as the smoke penetrated his lungs and, as he felt darkness take him, thought he heard the sound of familiar excited barking and hope flared briefly.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

“The rosemary shortbread is delicious, Mrs Lacey,” said Ducky.

“But?” queried Millie.

“But?”

“You are always the soul of courtesy, Dr Mallard but I can sense a slight reservation in your tone.”

“No, no,” protested Ducky, “By no means …”

“Dr Mallard?  You know that I won’t be offended.  I came to you for an honest assessment …”

“Well,” said Ducky hesitantly, “They are most palatable but … but I have memories of our housekeeper back in Scotland adding a touch of lemon zest to her shortbread.  It seemed to lift them to another level.”

“Lemon zest,” said Millie thoughtfully, “Hmm, that’s interesting.  How much do you think?”

“Perhaps I could come and assist?” said Ducky eagerly, “You know how much I enjoy working on culinary matters with you.”

“I suppose I could make them now,” said Millie, “I had intended going to the Retirement Home – you know how much the residents like a visit from Ruskin but …”

“It really would not be advisable.  As I told you earlier, there is a sickness bug going around the building.  I believe it has run its course but I recommended that they remain in quarantine for another 24 hours.”

“In that case,” decided Millie, “I’ll make them now.  They’ll be ready to serve with tea this afternoon.”

“And I will close the clinic,” declared Ducky, “I have no booked appointments and, if I leave a note on the door, patients will know where to find me.”  He scribbled a note for the door and, reflecting that Milsom Bay was pleasingly tolerant about chasing down its physician, offered his arm to Millie in a courteous gesture.

“I think I’ll take Ruskin to see Tony,” said Millie as they walked along, “He’ll enjoy a long walk along the beach.  Although Tony might not enjoy having to carry him back!  Ruskin is a very obliging dog but he’s not big on stamina!”

Millie and Ducky walked along slowly, continuing their debate on how much lemon zest to add to the shortbread and discussing whether baking the rosemary beforehand might enhance the flavour or might make it too intense.

“Hush, Ruskin,” scolded Millie when the dog barked excitedly.

Ruskin looked at her reproachfully and stopped.  After a couple more steps, however, he barked again.

“Perhaps he can still smell the dog treats, Dr Mallard,” suggested Millie, “He does seem rather excited.”

Ruskin began to pull on the lead as he barked.

“Ruskin!  Bad boy!” said Millie as she tugged him back.

“Perhaps he is tired,” said Ducky, “I’ll carry him for a while, shall I?”  He stooped and picked Ruskin up, “You know, my dear mother had a passion for Welsh Corgis and one in particular, named Aneurin, was a most energetic, _bouncy_ dog who would suddenly decide he didn’t want to walk anymore and would express his displeasure most vociferously.  Ruskin reminds me of him.”  He ran a soothing hand over Ruskin’s head trying to calm him.

“It’s unusual though for Ruskin to misbehave,” said Millie, “Perhaps you’re right and he is simply tired.  We won’t take him to Tony, but we’ll take him home to have a rest.  Now, Dr Mallard, if we’re adding lemon zest to the recipe, do you think we should adjust the amount of sugar?”

“That’s an interesting … hey, what are you doing there, boy,” Ducky broke off his reply to Millie as Ruskin made a bid for freedom.  “Very well then, you can walk if you want,” sighed Ducky as he put Ruskin down.  As he spoke, Ruskin managed to jerk the lead out of his hand and raced ahead.

“Oh well,” said Millie philosophically, “Tony is his favourite.  I guess he’s in a hurry to see him.”

“Shall we let him go?” asked Ducky gazing at the quiet streets.  It seemed unlikely that Ruskin would come to any harm in the few hundred yards to the Hall and letting Ruskin go on alone would save Millie and himself a few minutes’ diversion.

Millie hesitated, “I think we’d better go ourselves if you don’t mind.  Tony might be worried if Ruskin shows up without us.”

“I am at your disposal, dear lady.”

Millie and Ducky continued their leisurely progress.  At the back of Millie’s mind was the thought that it would not do Ruskin any harm to have to bark for a while to attract Tony’s attention; it might show him that he couldn’t always have things his own way.  A few moments later, they came within sight of the Hall and at first, they smiled to see Ruskin jumping up and down at the door and still barking frantically.

“He doesn’t usually bark like that,” observed Millie with the beginning of concern.

“No, he does seem to be unduly distressed,” said Ducky beginning to pick up the pace a little, “Good Lord, is that _smoke_ I see?”

“Yes.  It looks as if the place is on fire!” gasped Millie, “You don’t think Tony’s still in there, do you?”

“We’ll find out … ring 911 …” Ducky turned to Millie and stopped as he saw that she already had her cell phone in her hand and was speaking into it, “Quite so,” he said before breaking into a run.

Ducky opened the door to the Hall and then stepped back as smoke billowed out.  Ruskin barrelled straight in before he could be stopped.

“Is it safe to go in?” asked Millie as she arrived and peered inside.

“Possibly not,” conceded Ducky, “But nevertheless, I believe I should go in.  I can’t see many flames; I believe that so far there is more smoke than fire.  Stay here, Mrs Lacey and alert the fire fighters of what has happened,”  he took a handkerchief out of his pocket and placed it over his mouth to filter out some of the smoke and then, taking a deep breath, walked into the building following the sound of Ruskin’s barking.

Dropping to the floor where the smoke was slightly less dense, Ducky crawled along.  Suddenly, he felt something licking his face and realised that Ruskin had found him.  “Show me the way, boy!  Good boy!” praised Ducky.

It wasn’t long before he bumped into Tony lying on the floor,

“Anthony, my boy!  How are you?” asked Ducky running his hands across Tony’s body.  “What!” he exclaimed when he realised that Tony was tied and gagged.  He began to cough as he tried to tackle the knots, “I suppose I should start following Jethro’s rule 9 and carry a knife,” he muttered as his fingers slid off the knots. 

Frustrated at his lack of progress, Ducky decided on a different approach and grabbed another chair and began to smash at the windows.  Fortunately, the windows were as old and rundown as the rest of the building and he soon made a hole and fresh air flooded in.  Ducky could only hope that the new supply of oxygen would not invigorate the fire but, as he pondered this, he became aware of someone tapping him on the shoulder,

“It’s all right, Sir, we’ve got this.  You should leave.  And take the dog as well,” came the voice of a firefighter wearing breathing apparatus.

“Of course.  I am a doctor so I will be able to offer assistance once you get Anthony out,” he advised briefly before snatching Ruskin up and carrying the wriggling dog out of the building.

The firefighters weighed up the situation efficiently and simply cut the rope that attached the chair to the cabinet before lifting Tony and the chair and carrying them out.

Ducky hastened to Tony’s side, “He needs oxygen,” he ordered one of the firefighters, “Thank you,” he said as an oxygen cylinder and mask were passed to him.  “But first to get this tape off you, my boy,” he said.  “Perhaps it as well that you are unconscious at the moment as this may be painful,” he continued.  Ducky found a corner of the tape and gently pulled it off, “What!” he exclaimed as he saw another layer underneath, “Someone meant business,” he said grimly as he set to work on the next layer.

“Is that a gag as well?” asked Millie who was watching closely.

“I fear so.  It seems a rather unnecessary precaution,” Ducky frowned as he removed the gag; he seemed to recall that Gibbs had a handkerchief of that colour blue.  He shook his head to remove that absurd thought.

With tape and gag removed, Ducky was able more effectively to administer the oxygen and it wasn’t long before Tony began to stir.  As Millie, Ducky and the firefighters looked on, Tony was content just to breathe more easily at first and did not try to move or speak.

“Shouldn’t we … well, untie him?” suggested Millie.

Ducky frowned for a moment or two, wondering what was needed from a forensic evidence standpoint.  One of the firefighters guessed the dilemma and said,

“We’ve taken a lot of photos.  We’ll free him if you think that’s best.”

“Indeed,” confirmed Ducky, “er … perhaps, you could preserve the ropes?  You know, especially the knots?  And the police may also want to see the chair.”

“Understood,” said the firefighter obligingly although Millie got the impression that he already knew exactly what to do and was simply being polite.

As Tony was released from the chair, he instinctively stretched out his limbs, “Ow,” he said, “Ow …”

“You are safe now, Anthony,” said Ducky in considerable relief that Tony was returning to alertness, “Everything is going to be all right.”

Tony looked around himself in bewilderment and then, as the others watched, they saw his memory return and his face darken, “Gibbs!” he said in a scratchy voice.

“Gibbs?  Is Jethro still in there?” asked Ducky in horror.

Tony shook his head.

“Thank God,” said Ducky in relief.

“Who did this to you, Tony?” asked Millie.

“Gibbs!”  Tony’s eyes closed in exhaustion.

At that moment, the Milsom Bay police chief Lewis Bright arrived with one of his officers, “Heard the building was on fire,” he said, “Is that Tony?” he asked in horror as he saw Tony lying with his eyes closed.

Millie bit back an uncharacteristic sharp response, “You can see it is, Lew.”

“What happened?” asked the Chief.

A firefighter emerged from the building, “Morning, Chief.  It was just a small fire, we caught it in time.  We’re damping down now.”

“Was it an accident?” asked Bright.

“Don’t think so.  Seems to have started around an old heater.  And the fuse box is open.  Figure someone fiddled with that.  And then there’s …” he gestured towards Tony.

“What?” asked Bright.

“Anthony was found in the building, gagged and bound to a chair,” said Ducky, “I think that suggests that this was not an _accident_.”

“But who would do this?” asked the Chief sternly.

“It seems extraordinary,” began Ducky, “And of course, Anthony may have been rambling – you know, disorientated by the effects of smoke inhalation but he said …”

“He said that it was Agent Jethro Gibbs who tied him up,” said Millie briskly.

“ _Gibbs_?” said Bright, “What, that federal agent who used to be his Boss?”

“I fear so,” said Ducky, “And I believe that the material which was used to gag Anthony belongs to Jethro … Agent Gibbs.”

Ruskin, who had been submitting to being petted by the fire engine driver now decided it was time to make his presence felt and pushed his way through the throng surrounding Tony.  He pushed at Tony’s face with his nose and Tony’s eyes opened sleepily and he smiled.

“You can thank Ruskin for us finding you,” said Millie, “He knew something was up and raised the alarm.”

Tony nodded behind the mask and patted a wriggling Ruskin.

“Although,” said Ducky fairly, “You could also thank the question of lemon zest in shortbread and the outbreak of a sickness bug at the Retirement Home.”

Tony frowned at this but decided it was too complicated to pursue for the moment.

“Phillips,” said the Chief to his officer, “Get a BOLO out for Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs.  He’s 6-foot-tall, silver hair, blue eyes, medium build,” he looked down at Tony and added, “Do not approach.  He could be dangerous.  And share it first with Raleigh PD, the lieutenant is one of theirs.  We’ll get a photo out ASAP.”

Tony struggled into a sitting position and shook his head as he tried to remember something else.  His hand strayed to the oxygen mask, but Ducky batted it away,

“Leave it alone, Anthony.  It will help your breathing return to normal.”

Tony nodded meekly enough; at the moment he didn’t have enough energy to face down Ducky.

“Why did Agent Gibbs do such a thing?” asked Millie in distress.

Tony shook his head again, this time in response to the question.  He was still completely at a loss as to why Gibbs had attacked him.

“Anthony, I think it would be best if we return to the clinic so that I can carry out a thorough examination.  I will then make a determination about which hospital should take over your treatment.”

Tony nodded this time and allowed himself to be hoisted to his feet and then shepherded into the Chief’s car.  Ducky tucked himself in next to him while Millie and Ruskin walked back to the clinic.

A few minutes more of oxygen found Tony feeling a lot better: his breathing had improved and, although he had bruises and a sore face, he was determined not to go to hospital.  He allowed Ducky his thorough examination and then said,

“I’m fine, Ducky.  I was probably only out for a few minutes …”

“I suspect you had been inhaling the smoke for longer than that,” said Ducky severely.

“Maybe,” conceded Tony, “But I feel fine now.  No need to waste a hospital’s time.”

“Well …”

“All I need is a shower to get this smell off me … and some of Millie’s shortbread … and I’ll be golden,” he saw the sceptical eyes of Ducky and Millie and backtracked a little, “OK … silver.”

From long experience Ducky knew which battles to fight with Tony and he decided this wasn’t one of them, “Very well, Anthony.  But I insist that you undertake to seek medical advice should you become aware of any shortness of breath or difficulty in breathing.  I must say I am a little puzzled by that mark on your neck – how did that happen?”

Tony felt the place Ducky was pointing to, “Don’t know, Ducky.  I was rolling around on the floor, perhaps I did it then?”

“It reminds me of something,” said Ducky thoughtfully, “But I can’t quite bring it to mind.  No matter, I shall drive you back to your cabin … I shall leave the top of the Morgan down as I think the air will be good for you.  Dear lady,” he turned to Millie, “I fear I will not be able to accommodate you as well but I will happily undertake to return and transport you later if you wish?”

“Just take Ruskin for now.  I’m happy to walk, the exercise might calm me down.”

“Never seen Millie lose her cool,” commented Tony a few minutes later as they were driving to his place.

“No indeed,” agreed Ducky, “And I must confess to more than a slight feeling of agitation myself.  I cannot understand why on earth Jethro should have done such a dreadful thing.  Forgive me, dear boy, but you are _sure_ it was he?”

Tony frowned and nodded, “Absolutely, Ducky.  He didn’t try and disguise himself at all, just marched in.  Handcuffed me first and then, when I didn’t play ball, he stunned me and the next thing I knew I was trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey.  Then he added a couple of finishing touches and walked away.”

“Did he give any _reason_ for his actions?”

“Nope.  Hardly said anything.”

“He always works at a high pitch of intensity,” mused Ducky, “It must take a tremendous amount of energy to keep so busy.  Perhaps he has suffered some sort of breakdown?”

“I don’t know, Ducky.”

“Did he appear angry or _agitated_?”

Tony thought for a moment, “No, don’t think so.  In fact, he seemed pretty much as normal – calm, focussed, efficient.  Just another job,” Tony couldn’t help the bitterness which leaked into the words.”

“Indeed, it is completely inexplicable.  We must hope that it becomes _explicable_ at some point.  Ah, we have arrived, and I see that Lewis is here too.”

“Probably needs to take a statement from me,” said Tony resignedly, “Wonder who gets jurisdiction on this?  Lew, Raleigh PD or the FBI – seeing as it’s a federal agent who seems to have lost it.”

“I am thankful that I no longer have to concern myself with such matters,” said Ducky, “But I will, with your permission, come in with you and ensure that the giving of the statement does not cause a relapse.”

“Not my first statement, Ducky,” said Tony with a hint of amusement.

“But, I would venture to say, it is the first one dealing with an attack by someone you regarded as a friend,” said Ducky shrewdly.

“Can’t deny that,” said Tony as the flicker of amusement died and his face went stony.

 


	4. Chapter 4

Lewis Bright talked Tony through his statement,

“And you can’t think of any reason why Agent Gibbs should attack you in this way?”

Tony gave the Milsom Bay Chief of Police a colder stare than he usually gave the genial man, “What?  You think I provoked him in some way?  That there’s some sort of _justification_?”

Bright realised his misstep and held up his hands in a conciliatory gesture, “Sorry, _reason_ was probably not the right word?”

“ _Probably_?” queried Tony tetchily.

“All right, _definitely_ not the right word.  What I meant was, did Gibbs give any indication about why he tied you up?”

Tony nodded acceptance of the apology, “No.  Ducky asked me something similar.  Gibbs barely spoke to me and he looked pretty much as he usually does.”

“OK,” said Bright, “We’ve got a BOLO out on him, with a warning not to approach.  I need to talk to your Chief; see how she wants to handle this.  And someone’s getting on to NCIS for a photograph and to let them know what’s going on … not that we know what’s going on really.”

“You OK if I take a shower now?” asked Tony, “I need to get this smoke stink out of my hair and clothes.”

“Go ahead,” agreed Bright, “We’ve got photos.  Dr Mallard took some blood so we can get it tested in case … well, I’m not sure but it seemed a good idea at the time.”

Tony frowned; he would never think it was a good idea to have blood taken.  He rubbed his chin and winced,

“Face is really sore.  How did that happen?”

“I tried to remove the tape gently, Anthony but it had adhered most powerfully to your skin,” said Ducky.

“Tape?” asked Tony, “What tape?”

“You had two layers of duct tape around your mouth, Anthony,” he looked at Tony in puzzlement, “Did you not remember that?”

Tony frowned and stroked his chin again, “No.  I remember Gibbs putting a hankie between my teeth but that’s all …”

“It’s not surprising if your memory is a little patchy, my boy,” said Ducky kindly, “What with the trauma and the smoke inhalation – and it’s probably something that your mind _wants_ to forget.  Why don’t you go and have that shower?”

Tony looked a little mutinous, and Ducky suspected he would focus on the _smoke inhalation_ rather than the _trauma_ as an explanation of his lack of recall, but he went off to his shower obediently enough.

“Lewis,” asked Ducky when they were alone, “Do you think Anthony is _safe_?  In normal circumstances I would have staked my life on the impossibility of Gibbs deliberately setting out to hurt Anthony, but these are very far from normal circumstances … and I can’t help but fear that he may return …”

Lew shrugged, “Don’t know what to say, Doc.  If it wasn’t for the fire, I’d say that Gibbs hadn’t set out to hurt Tony but just slow him down a tad … but it’s the fire that makes it worse.  I guess we’ll have to wait for the fire service report.  I’ll talk to Chief Martin, but I figure we’ll put someone with Tony, just to be sure.”

Ducky nodded approval and got up to make some tea to give to Tony when he returned from his shower.  Bright made some phone calls and decided to stay where he was until the protection was in place.

A few minutes later, Tony emerged from the shower.  He had dressed but was still towelling his hair dry.

“I made you some tea, Anthony.  I think you will find it restorative.  And also I have some of Mrs Lacey’s rosemary shortbread.  It will be interesting to get your opinion of them although we are of the …”

“I remembered something else,” said Tony interrupting Ducky, “Gibbs didn’t put the duct tape on!”

“He didn’t?  I must admit I was surprised to see both a cloth gag and the layers of tape,” said Ducky.

“Then who did?” asked Bright, getting his notebook out again.

Tony frowned, “He was wearing a balaclava so I couldn’t see his face properly …”

“Jethro had an accomplice?” asked Ducky.

Tony’s frown continued, “I don’t think so.  Or, at least, they didn’t tie me up together.  Gibbs tied me up and then the other guy came in.  He put the tape on – seemed to enjoy doing it too.”

“So, was it some sort of bizarre coincidence?” asked Ducky hopefully, “You know, this other man taking advantage of your helplessness which Jethro had inadvertently caused?  Although,” he continued, “I cannot persuade myself that Jethro’s actions were accidental.”

Tony continued to frown and didn’t answer Ducky directly, “He put his arm around my neck …” he went on.

“Of course!” exclaimed Ducky, “That mark!  I knew I had seen it before.  It is the mark of someone exerting pressure on the neck by putting a person in a chokehold and causing them to lose consciousness.  I believe it is a technique taught to members of the armed forces who are deployed in situations requiring stealth and speed.  Why I remember once …”

“You sure it wasn’t Gibbs who did this?” asked Bright who had learned that it was sometimes necessary to interrupt Ducky, “Gibbs didn’t come back with a balaclava on?”

“No, well, I don’t think so,” he stopped to concentrate, “Didn’t smell like Gibbs,” he said finally.  He looked up at the sceptical expression on the others’ faces, “You know, Gibbs usually smells of sawdust, Old Spice and sometimes, if his knee’s playing up, Bengay.”

“I defer to your superior olfactory skills, Anthony,” said Ducky.

“So, if it wasn’t Gibbs, do you know who it was?” asked Bright.

“He seemed to enjoy it,” said Tony, “And I didn’t get that vibe from Gibbs.  I’m not saying that Gibbs seemed to be bothered about what he was doing but he didn’t give the impression of enjoying it.  I don’t think this guy liked me.”

“Someone you have arrested in the past?” suggested Ducky.

“What?” asked the Chief, “Do we think that Gibbs, on some sort of whim or in the grip of a mental breakdown, tied Tony up and this other guy, seeking revenge, just _happened_ to be passing and decided to take advantage of the situation?”

“It seems most unlikely,” agreed Ducky.

Tony closed his eyes as he concentrated on remembering what had happened, “Dinkerly!” he said.

“Excuse me?” asked Ducky.

“Barry Dinkerly – I recognised the voice - that’s who came in and added the tape and knocked me out.”

“Technically, not _knocking you out,”_ murmured Ducky, “I would categorise it more as _rendering you unconscious_ , but, “he hastened on as he encountered a hard stare from Tony, “That is mere trifling with words.  And who is this Mr Dinkerly?”

“He’s one of the contractors for the work on the Pink House,” said the Chief, “But Tony thought there was something fishy going on there and we started looking into it.  The work’s been suspended temporarily.”

“What made you think things were untoward, Anthony?”

Tony looked a little sheepish, “Well, you know I’ve always had a soft spot for the Pink House?”  Ducky nodded.  “And don’t get me wrong, I’m glad the Marine Corps are taking it over, the house needs to be used.  But when I was down here, I used to go for a walk along the beach and just take a look … while I could.  Don’t expect the new residents will be that welcoming to casual visitors once the place is up and running.  So, like I said, I used to go down sometimes in the evening, just to drink it all in.”

“And?” prompted Ducky.

“I went down one night, quite late, and there seemed to be work going on.  That seemed odd.  I mean, the work wasn’t going that quick, but I didn’t think there was so much urgency that people needed to work through the night.  But I figured it might just be a one-off rush job.  I went back the next day and they were still working through the night so I … well, I snuck up to have a look.”

“And?” pressed Ducky again.

“Dinkerly’s crew are working on high-tech stuff but the guys I saw didn’t look like highly skilled people.  Didn’t have coveralls on but looked scruffy and poorly dressed.  Didn’t look happy either – or usually you know, guys on this type of work look sort of content to be doing something so skilled.  I thought they almost looked _hungry,_ kinda malnourished.”

“And what conclusion did you reach, Anthony?”

“I wondered if they might be illegals.  Working under duress and working at night when they could not be observed.”

“And what did you do about this?”

“He spoke to Dinkerly,” said Lew.

“Casually,” said Tony, “I didn’t want to spook him.  Asked him about the late hours and he just said that they were trying to catch up.  Asked where the workers came from and where they racked at night, but he just brushed me off.  I went to Lew and told him what I suspected and we both went down to challenge him.”

“And he was polite to start with,” said Lew, “I think he hoped that we’d agree with him that it was some sort of political correctness to worry too much about working conditions.  That the end justifies the means.  Pointed out that the Pink House was being made ready to provide a safe place for heroes and we shouldn’t be holding things up.”

“And then he got a bit less polite,” continued Tony, “Told us to go back where we belonged.  Told us he’d served, and he knew what was best for his fellow Marines and he’d make sure they’d get it and interfering do-gooders like us wouldn’t stop him.”

“In some ways that could be seen as admirable,” said Ducky doubtfully.

“I guess,” said Tony, “But it seemed a bit … artificial … fabricated … not real.  We went away, reported our misgivings to the Marine Corps – they weren’t pleased, but they don’t want the Pink House built using people being mistreated and they decided to call a halt.  I went down with the Assistant Chief of Staff from Camp LeJeune to give Dinkerly the good news.  He wasn’t pleased – he was polite enough while the Assistant Chief was there but he let rip at me once he was gone.  Let’s just say, he had a colourful turn of phrase!”

“And what was going to happen next?  Were you and Lewis going to continue to investigate?”

Tony shook his head, “Nope.  We submitted a report to ICE – Immigration and Customs Enforcement – to our old friend Julia Foster-Yates, as it happened.  You remember her, Ducky?  Anyhoo, they took it over and told us that they’d talk to us if they needed to … but we got the impression,” Tony looked ruefully at Bright, “That our help would not really be needed.  Don’t think they buy into the _liaison_ part of my job!”

“And was Dinkerly aware that you were no longer part of the investigation, Anthony?”

“Don’t think so.  ICE play things pretty much close to their vest.”

“So Dinkerly may have been looking for an opportunity to get you out of the way?  Buying some time?  So, it was coincidence after Jethro’s brainstorm caused him to act so uncharacteristically?”

“Tony?” asked Bright, “Is that what you think?”

“Surely that must be the case,” said Ducky, “It is surely inconceivable that Jethro was in league with Dinkerly?  Do they even _know_ each other?”

Realisation dawned on Tony’s face, “Yes, they do.  Dinkerly was a lance-corporal in Gibbs’ company and Gibbs admitted that he’s down here to see him.  And,” Tony’s face hardened, “When Dinkerly arrived he said something about coming to check that Gibbs – Leroy, he called him – had done his job properly.  And right at the end, just before he left, he said something about _Leroy sending his love_ ’.

“But,” said Ducky in some distress, “That doesn’t mean that Jethro and this other gentleman were in league somehow, it could – must – be a coincidence.”

“I don’t want to believe it either, Ducky but there’s something else – Dinkerly knew about my belt knife.  He could only have got that information from Gibbs.  I have to believe that this was all something arranged by Gibbs and Dinkerly together.”

“But surely Jethro was not responsible for the fire?”

“We’ll know soon enough,” said Bright non-committally, “Fire Service will give us a report on whether the fire was started deliberately or just happened to break out.  My officers are taking fingerprints and the ropes that tied Tony are on their way to Raleigh for DNA testing.”

Ducky shook his head sadly but didn’t say anything; his heart was too full for further speculation.

“Ducky,” said Tony gently, “Why don’t you go down to Millie’s?  She’s waiting for you and you know you’ll enjoy cooking with her.”

“I don’t want to leave you yet, Anthony,” protested Ducky, “I am still concerned about your health following this ordeal – especially in the light of your having been rendered unconscious.”

“I’m fine, Ducky,” said Tony reassuringly, “I just need some peace and quiet.  And perhaps you could take Ruskin with you?  People will miss him if he’s not there around lunch-time.”

Ducky sighed, “Very well, my boy.  You have my cell number – do not hesitate to use it to summon aid should you begin to suffer any sort of respiratory distress?”

“I will.  Promise.”

It took some more reassurances but finally Ducky and Ruskin took their leave.  Bright was about to phone the police station to order a BOLO to be put out on Barry Dinkerly when his cell rang, he listened to the message and said, “On my way.  Tell them not to approach unless absolutely necessary.”

“What?” asked Tony.

“Got a hit on the BOLO,” said Bright.

“Gibbs?” said Tony in disbelief.  He hadn’t really thought that Gibbs would have been spotted by anyone.

“Holly Shelter Game Land.  In a cabin.”

“I’m coming with you,” said Tony firmly, “And don’t try to stop me!”

“Wasn’t going to,” said Bright laconically, “Glad of the help.  But don’t tell the doc!”

XXXXXX

It wasn’t long before Bright’s car drew up quietly and discreetly a few hundred yards from the cabin where Gibbs had been spotted.  Three officers from Raleigh PD were there along with Bright, Tony and two officers from Milsom Bay.

Through his binoculars, Tony could see Gibbs apparently lost in thought, sitting on a bench outside the cabin.  He hadn’t, of course, expected to see a distraught Gibbs pacing up and down wracked with horror about what he had done to Tony, but the calm picture made him angry once more.

Three of the law enforcement officers made their way to the back of the cabin and, when they were in place, the other four approached Gibbs from the front.

“Leroy Jethro Gibbs!” shouted Chief Bright when they were close enough, “You’re under arrest!”

Gibbs stood up abruptly and Tony could see his customary weighing up of the situation before he raised his hands in the air.  Tony and one of his fellow Raleigh PD officers walked up to Gibbs whose eyes widened in surprise when he saw Tony,

“DiNozzo!” 

Tony was not a naturally violent person and his choice of career and previous sporting prowess had forced him to rein in most of his impulsiveness.  Those people who got to know him well recognised that, although he could appear to be undisciplined, he was usually in control when it mattered. 

Tony was therefore as surprised as Gibbs when he let fly with a right hook which hit Gibbs’ chin and felled him to the ground.

 


	5. Chapter 5

“You sure you want to do this?” asked Chief Bright.

“You sure you _want_ me to do this?” asked Tony half-seriously.

“Think you’re the best option,” said Bright realistically.  He glanced through the observation window into the interrogation room at the Milsom Bay police station where Gibbs sat stoically upright.  “He’s faced down me _and_ Officer Phillips … reckon you’re next.”

Gibbs had been brought back to the police station where he had refused medical attention for his jaw and spurned the offer of an icepack for it.  He had also steadfastly refused to answer any questions but simply gazed back at his would-be interrogators with a hint of amusement in his eyes.

Tony gazed at Gibbs and wondered what was going on behind the composed façade,

“You’re not afraid I’ll hit him again?” he asked.

“It’s him who should be afraid.  That was a hell of a punch.”

Tony flexed his hand cautiously but left his own icepack in place, “It’s Gibbs’ fault.  He was the one who taught me how to fight dirty.”

“You think you can keep your cool?” asked Bright more seriously.

“Sure … well, pretty sure.  And who knows, I reckon I’ve got some information Gibbs doesn’t know.  _Which will make a change_ ,” he added to himself.  Tony straightened his shoulders, discarded the icepack and picked up a folder before striding into the interview room where he sat down opposite his former Boss.

There was silence for a full minute at the two men stared at each other before, surprisingly, Gibbs spoke,

“Speak!” he ordered.

“Excuse me?”

“It’s usual practice for the person on that side of the desk to ask a question.  Seem to remember seeing the words _Interview Room_ on the other side of the door.  Kinda presupposes speaking of some sort.”

Tony shrugged, “It’s kinda hard to know where to start.”

“Never known you be lost for words before, Tony.”

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“’bout what?”

“I shouldn’t be surprised that you didn’t try to be conciliatory.”

“ _Conciliatory?”_

“Well, I didn’t expect an _apology,_ but I thought it was possible that you might think you’re on shaky ground here.”

Tony wasn’t quite sure how Gibbs achieved it, but he managed to sit up even straighter.

“Come on, DiNozzo.  You were … _inconvenienced_ for a bit …”

“Inconvenienced?” Tony couldn’t help his voice rising slightly.

“And I guess you might be embarrassed …”

“Embarrassed?” Tony hoped that the whole interview wasn’t going to consist of him repeating what Gibbs said.

“That I managed to tie you up, overpowered you.”

“Gee, I wonder how that happened?  I guess I should have expected that one day you’d decide to attack me without warning.  After all, it’s fairly common for someone you think of as a friend to assault you.”

“Attack?” frowned Gibbs.

“You hit me, Gibbs!  And you tied me up – what would you call it?”

Gibbs shrugged but didn’t answer directly, “And I can’t have done that good of a job …”

“What?”

Gibbs looked at his watch, “It’s about three hours since … it happened.  Another hour before the meeting was due to take place so I figure you managed to get free quickly,” he gave a nod of almost approval.

“So that makes it all right?  That I got out quickly, makes it OK?”

Gibbs shrugged again.

“Why’d you do it, Gibbs?”

“What does it matter?  Charge me or let me go.”

“You know, you’ve always been a closed book, Gibbs but I figured I knew you pretty well but this – well, this I don’t understand.”

Gibbs stared back blankly.  Tony imagined it was how he had reacted when facing interrogation from the enemy but what Tony couldn’t imagine was what had made Gibbs categorise _him_ as the enemy.

“OK,” said Tony, “Let’s move on,” he drew the folder towards him and looked at the contents. “We’ve got a BOLO out for Barry Dinkerly,” he announced all the while looking closely at Gibbs for a reaction.

A seasoned Gibbs observer like Tony was probably the only person who would have spotted the slight widening of the eyes as Gibbs heard the news.

“So?” asked Gibbs.

“You shouldn’t be surprised,” said Tony.  He half expected Gibbs to be insulted at the accusation of betraying surprise but instead Gibbs said,

“Why should I be interested in a BOLO on Dinkerly?”

“Come on, Gibbs, you can do better than that!  You told me you’d come down to see him, that you’d served together.  I figure you’d be interested in a _friend_ being in trouble.  Although,” he added thoughtfully, “I guess it’s hard to know what you’ll do for a _friend_.”

Gibbs twitched slightly at that dig but otherwise didn’t react.

“You said you were investigating him,” said Gibbs, “I guess you’ve decided you need to bring him in.”

“And do you know what we were investigating him about?”  Gibbs was silent for a few moments, so Tony said in an irritated tone, “Come on, Gibbs!  You already told me that Dinkerly told you that I was looking into something.  It’s not top secret or anything.”

Gibbs seemed to decide there was nothing wrong in sharing the information, “He said there were some disagreements about building regulations … that it had got out of hand, blown out of all proportion.”

“I see.  And you think that’s the sort of thing I get involved in?  Building regulations?”

“No, not usually.  But you care about the Pink House so you probably would.”

Tony paused to consider this possibility.  He wondered, if he had discovered some irregularity of that sort, whether he would have reported it.  Apart from the unlikelihood of his _recognising_ a building irregularity even if it came up and bit him, Tony thought he might have reported it.

“Good to know you think I have a sense of proportion, Agent Gibbs.”

“Hey, I sat across you in the squad room for 13 years … I know all about you getting obsessive, DiNozzo!”

Tony bit back on an angry response in favour of saying, “So, Barry Dinkerly said I was hassling him over building regulations.”

“Look,” said Gibbs, “What does this matter?  Either charge me with whatever you want to charge me or let me go,” he made to stand up.

“Sit down, Agent Gibbs,” said Tony coldly, “I’m in charge of this interrogation.  You go when _I_ say.”

“OK but I don’t see why you’re fishing for information about Dink.”

“Because you and _Dink_ planned all this together.”

“Planned what?”

“Planned to attack me … I’m trying to figure out if you’re involved with his _building regulation_ problems as well.”

“ _I_ tied you up,” said Gibbs, “You know that.  Why bring Dink into it as well.”

Tony once again observed Gibbs closely, trying to determine if he was being truthful, “Well, your _friend_ Dink came to check up on your handiwork …” Tony decided that Gibbs looked mildly irritated at the thought that he’d been _checked up_ on but he kept silent.  “And he added a couple of touches … didn’t think you’d quite done enough.”

Gibbs’ eyes drifted to the red marks on Tony’s face where the tape had been stuck, “That’s right, Agent Gibbs, he decided to add a couple of layers of duct tape – just to make sure that I couldn’t make a noise.”  Gibbs took a deep breath but still didn’t say anything.  “And then he choked me,” said Tony conversationally.  This time he didn’t leave a space for Gibbs to respond, “So, you can see why I’m talking about Barry Dinkerly.  ‘cos it’s hard not to think that you and he had it all planned.  And it’s more serious than you attacking me and tying me up.  Don’t you think?  Or was it just a _coincidence_ that he showed up?  Surely not.  I seem to remember you have strong rules about coincidences, Agent Gibbs.”

“How do you know it was him?” asked Gibbs.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m guessing that he’d hide his face somehow … perhaps wear gloves.  How did you know it was him?” asked Gibbs defiantly.

“I’m good at voices,” said Tony, “I recognised his.  And I recognised his cologne … I remembered because the first time I saw him I smelled the overpriced stench.  And I’m good at remembering smells – or is that one of my _obsessions_ too?”

“I …”

“Seem to remember that my sense of smell came in handy sometimes,” mused Tony.

“DiNozzo!”

“Where were we?  Oh yes, how did I know it was Dinkerly?  I recognised his voice and his smell – and he talked about you.”

“What?”

“Your hearing going as well as your eyesight, Gibbs?  You heard me!  He told me that he’d come to check on _Leroy’s_ handiwork and, when he left, said that _Leroy sent his love_.  I mean, I knew that bit was unlikely, but I got the drift that the whole tying DiNozzo up was something you’d planned together.”

Gibbs didn’t respond to that.

“And I figure you must have talked about me.”

“Why do you think that?”

“You mean you didn’t know that I’m so self-centred that I always think people talk about me?” asked Tony in mock surprise, “He knew I had a knife hidden in my belt, Gibbs – that was a big clue!”

Gibbs sighed, “Ten years ago – we met up briefly.  I told him about my team … about you.  And I mentioned about the knife …”

“Why?” asked Tony in puzzlement.

Gibbs looked almost embarrassed, “Because I was proud of you, dumbass!  I wanted to tell him that I had someone in my team who followed my rules but in his own way.”

“Oh,” said Tony, he hadn’t expected that answer.

“And when I came down here to see what his problem was, he mentioned that it was you who was causing him difficulties … and I guess I tried to talk you up a bit …”

“Excuse me?”

“I told him how good of an investigator you’d been when you were on my team … that you were honest and capable … that you would look into the case properly.”

Tony couldn’t help but feel warm gratification at this praise, but it was soon replaced by a chill as he remembered Gibbs’ clinical attack on him.

“I’m guessing you didn’t do a good job of persuading him as you cooked up the idea of capturing me between you.”

“I’m not saying anything about Dinkerly,” said Gibbs firmly, “And yes, you were inconvenienced but that’s all.”

“Oh, yes – silly me, making a fuss about nothing!  You didn’t think that I’d be helpless in that building tied up and not able to move for hours?”

“Nothing happened, DiNozzo!  You’re fine.”

Tony gritted his teeth and pulled out some pictures of the hall, “Does this look _fine_ to you, Gibbs?”

“What’s this?”

“The hall caught fire.”

“What?”

“You really should get your hearing looked at, Gibbs.  The hall caught fire.  Fortunately, as you can see, the smoke was noticed, and people came running.  You know, the type of people who care!”

“I wouldn’t have left you anywhere that I thought you’d be in danger,” said Gibbs with a rare touch of softness.

“I’m finding that a little hard to believe, Agent Gibbs,” Tony pulled out another sheet of paper, “The Fire Service report shows that they believe the fire was set deliberately.”

“What?”

Tony refrained from the deafness jibe this time, “An old heater was rigged to shoot sparks on to a pile of cushions and old newspapers that had been placed around it.  The fuse box had been tampered with in some way to make sure that the damaged heater didn’t cut out when it was switched on.”

“You don’t think _I_ set a fire, do you?  That’s crazy!”

“As crazy as you binding and gagging me?  If you’d have asked me that this morning, I’d have said that was impossible too.  You can see why I’m confused.  And we don’t know who did it.  There don’t seem to be any fingerprints on the heater or the fuse box so it could have been you or it could have been Dinkerly or it could have been something you planned together.  I didn’t see either of you do it but, unless you had yet another accomplice, it was either you or Dinkerly who did it.”

“I had nothing to do with any fire,” said Gibbs firmly.

Tony continued as if he hadn’t heard Gibbs’ denial, “So, you see it’s more than attacking me and imprisoning me … it’s destruction of property and arson … and oh yeah, what’s the other charge?  Oh I know, attempted murder!  Do you really think you’re walking away from this one?”

“Dinkerly was convinced that you were about to arrest him on the charges.  He said that he needed a breathing space to contact his suppliers to clear up the confusion.  He was desperate and I thought it was a real possibility that he’d do something stupid if I didn’t stop him,” said Gibbs.

“Like what?”

“I thought he might kill himself.  He was rambling, not making sense – so I agreed to find a way to slow you up a little.”

“You didn’t think to come to me and say that he was mentally unstable, to go easy on the investigation?  You can’t have thought that we’d be hounding him over some breach of building regs?”

“He trusts me.  He needed to think that I trusted him.”

“Ah, trust – yeah, that’s an important word for you, isn’t it?”

For answer, Gibbs simply stared at Tony.

“So, what was the plan?” asked Tony after waiting briefly for a reply.

“I went to the cabin where you picked me up.  He was going to meet me there after he’d gathered all the details of his suppliers and subcontractors.  I was going to go help him talk to them …”

“Talk to them?  You were going to help negotiate with them?” asked Tony almost amused at the picture of Gibbs being diplomatic.

“I was going to do what was needed to sort it out for him,” said Gibbs flatly.

“For a friend,” said Tony softly.

“Yes, for a friend.”

“And you trust him?”

“With my life.  We were brother Marines together and that bond never dies.”

“Good to know,” said Tony blandly, “I thought you’d been careless,” he continued in an apparent change of subject.

“Excuse me?”

“The BOLO wasn’t out long before we got a hit.  It didn’t strike me at first – you know, what with getting over the being knocked out and breathing in all that smoke – that you were spotted quickly in a remote sort of place.  It seemed out of character for you to have been spotted at all, after all you’re the master of disappearing.”

“Everyone makes mistakes.  Sorry to disappoint you.”

Tony nodded and took out another sheet of paper, “Turns out that it wasn’t a LEO who spotted you and called it in.  We got a tip-off.  Hey, I’ve got an idea.  Seeing as you don’t think I’m that good at recognising voices, why don’t you listen to the recording and see what you think?”  Tony turned around, “Chief,” he said, “Can you play the tip-off for Agent Gibbs to listen to?”

A moment later, a slightly tinny sounding voice came through the speaker,

“ _Raleigh PD?  I’ve just seen someone you’re looking for.  Leroy Jethro Gibbs … I saw him at a cabin at Holly Shelter Game Land.  On the south side …”_ there followed some exact co-ordinates.

“Recognise the voice, Gibbs?” asked Tony.

“You know who it is,” said Gibbs stiffly, “Dinkerly.”

“Guess he doesn’t trust you that much after all.”

Gibbs reverted to silence as he came to terms with what he had just heard.

“So, Gibbs,” said Tony conversationally, “Any idea where we might find your _friend_?”

“Let me go and I’ll find him.”

Tony managed an almost genuine laugh, “You really think that’s going to happen?”

“I can find him.  And I’ll bring him in.”

“Like I said, that’s not going to happen.  You really think I’m going to trust you?  That anyone else is going to trust you?”

“I’m your best chance of finding him and you know that.  Let me do that.”

Tony stared at Gibbs, “You’re right.  You are our best chance … and time is crucial here but there’s no way on earth that you’re going out on your own.”

Gibbs shifted uncomfortably, “I’ll be quicker on my own.”

“Not going to happen,” repeated Tony, “I’m going with you.  I’m kinda motivated here.  And don’t say I’ll slow you down … I worked for you for 13 years, I know how you work and there have been times when you seemed to think we worked together well …”

“OK,” said Gibbs briskly, “Enough chat.  Let’s get on with it.”  He stood up and, for the first time, rubbed his chin ruefully, “Good punch,” he praised, “Bet your hand felt it though!”

Tony gazed at Gibbs, he wondered if his former Boss thought that the almost joke wiped the slate clean of what he had done.

Tony stood up too, “I’m sorry,” he said.

“Don’t apologise,” said Gibbs sternly, “It’s a sign of …”

“I wasn’t apologising,” said Tony bleakly, “I’m just sorry …”


	6. Chapter 6

“OK, Gibbs,” said Tony as they left the interview room for the office Chief Bright had offered them, “What’s next?  How do we find Dinkerly?”

“Guessing you’ve traced his cell?”

“Can’t trace it.  It’s either switched off or dumped somewhere.   He called from a pay phone in Wilmington to tip us off about where you were.”

Gibbs frowned; he was clearly still coming to terms with Dinkerly having given him up.

“He was renting a place in the Bay,” continued Tony, “And, surprise surprise, he’s not there now.  Did he mention anywhere else he had?”

“Nope.  He used to be keen on RVs – you know, motorhomes.  Said he liked the idea of getting up and going.”

“Huh, I’ll get someone on to that … and doing a check on local RV parks to see if he’s been staying at one while he’s been down here.”

“What about his phone?  I mean, while he was using it?  Anything _hinky_ there?”

“Calls seem to be mostly to suppliers, to people at Camp LeJeune, to friends … nothing unexpected but …”

“But?”

“His cell’s pretty busy most of the day and early evening but then usage drops off almost completely from about 1900 to 0430.”

“Early to bed early to rise?” suggested Gibbs doubtfully.

“’Cos that’s what Marines do?  Seem to remember that you’re late to bed and early to rise.”

“So, what’s your theory?”

“I figure he switches to a burn phone when he’s doing stuff he wants to keep on the downlow.”

“Makes sense,” mused Gibbs.

“Got any ideas?” asked Tony, “You know, as he’s your buddy.  Any habits, any tells which might help?”

“Still seems extreme,” said Gibbs.

“What does?”

“Doing all this because of building code violations.  I mean, I get shutting the site down and I get him trying to sort it out before things got out of control but this … well, it doesn’t make sense.”

“I’d agree,” said Tony, “But it’s not about building code violations – although I think there were a few.”

“What then?”

“We think he’s using illegal immigrants – and Gibbs, that’s a whole other ballgame and a nasty one.  ICE are taking the lead in the investigation.”

“Dink wouldn’t do that,” said Gibbs emphatically, “Like I said, he’s a good man.”

“A good man who probably set the fire in the Hall?  A good man who betrayed you?  Not sure I agree with your definition of _good,_ Gibbs.”

“I know it looks bad,” conceded Gibbs, “But it’s not the man I know …”

“Might not be the man you _knew_ ,” said Tony, “But I reckon it’s the man you _know_ now.”

Gibbs shook his head in disbelief.

“ICE already figured something was going on around here.  They intercepted a lorry full of men and women from Mexico in the south of the State.  The people arrested didn’t give much away – they were too frightened – but said that they were being brought here to work on a project that was going to pay them a lot of money.  Said they were going to be given some training which would be used on the job and would help them get a good job in the US.”  Tony sighed his opinion of the possibility of those dreams being fulfilled.

“Doesn’t mean it was Dink,” protested Gibbs.

“I saw people working on the Pink House.  Late at night.  Didn’t look like your usual highly skilled workers and they looked kinda worried and afraid.  If it had just been a case of people working late, I probably wouldn’t have done anything, but it was their look … the atmosphere – didn’t seem right to me.”

“Hmm.”

“And it wouldn’t have seemed right to you either, Gibbs,” said Tony sharply, “I get that he’s your friend, but he doesn’t get a free pass to terrorise and exploit people!”

Gibbs scowled but didn’t reply directly.  “What have ICE come up with?”

“They were building a case through observation, waiting to go in so they’re not too pleased that it looks as if Dinkerly’s in the wind.  They’re looking for him …”

“And they’ve agreed we can look as well?” Gibbs was sceptical about the other agency welcoming their involvement.

“They’ve agreed – although, if we find him, they want us to hang back until they arrive.  But there’s urgency now, that’s why they’re using every option available.”

“Urgency?”

“People smugglers, users of illegal immigrants aren’t exactly known for their kindness, Gibbs.  There’s a real chance that, to cover their tracks, they’ll either abandon their workers or … worse.”

Gibbs opened his mouth to deny that his friend would do such a thing but then closed it again as, being honest, he had to admit that Dinkerly hadn’t behaved as he would have expected so anything was possible.

Tony’s cell rang at that moment, “DiNozzo … hey!  Good work!  Tell Nancy I’ll take her to tea at Millie’s!  Send me what you’ve got.”

Gibbs quirked an eyebrow in query as Tony ended the call with a happy smile on his face, “What?” he demanded.

“We got a break.  We were trying to work out where Dinkerly might have got his burn phone – Raleigh PD are going through his bank accounts hoping to find a transaction but knew it was more likely he paid cash.  Phillips – one of Chief Bright’s men – thought he’d check the stores in the Bay and Bingo!”

“Nancy?”

“Nancy Price – she runs the general store.  She says that Dinkerly bought five burn phones from her the first week he was in the Bay.”

“And that helps how?”

“It was the last five she had, and she knows the serial numbers because she always keeps a record.  Guys at Raleigh say they’ll be able to trace the calls he made using them.  Three have been used but they’ll keep an alert for the other two as well.”

“And?”

“And all three phones made calls to the same place and made calls from there,” Tony sensed Gibbs’ impatience and hurried on, “Place called Manly … about 20 miles north of here.  The techs are trying to pinpoint it more.  There were calls to and from Manly in the hours Dinkerly didn’t use his other cell _._ ”

“What’s there?”

Tony frowned, “Used to be quite a big settlement there, depended on growing tobacco but it’s gone downhill in recent years.  There are some isolated farms there … could be a …”

“Good place to hide an illegal workforce?”

“Not far to drive them in to the Pink House.  Out of the way and some big old storehouses to hunker down in.”

“Let’s go then,” said Gibbs, “Where do I get my gun from?”

“Gun?”

“Yeah, you know – that thing you shoot people with.”

“I know what it is, Gibbs.  You don’t think you’re getting your gun back, do you?”

“Damn straight I do.”

“Gibbs, you’re still under arrest!  You’re in my custody when we leave here.  And besides, I’m pretty sure that Vance has suspended you from duty … I thought I overheard that conversation?”

“He didn’t need to use the phone,” grumbled Gibbs, “Could’ve heard him from DC without it.”

“So, if you’re suspended you can’t carry your NCIS weapon.”

“Huh!  So what do we do if we find Dink?”

“We call in ICE – and anyone else I can think of!  We don’t want to get this wrong, Gibbs.”

Gibbs directed a customary hard look at Tony, but Tony simply gazed back, he had no intention of letting Gibbs take the reins.

A few minutes later, Tony and Gibbs were driving towards Manly.  Amidst all the other weirdnesses of the situation, Tony couldn’t help but be struck by how strange it felt to be driving Gibbs.  Gibbs preferred to be in control so rarely allowed anyone else to drive.

“When’s Tali back?” asked Gibbs.

“Excuse me?”

“When does Tali get back?”

“Three days.  I was just confused – you don’t usually want to make conversation,” said Tony to excuse not hearing the question correctly at first.

“Not making conversation,” said Gibbs gruffly, “Just surprised that you let her go.”

Tony wondered if he was always going to be prone to imagining criticism of his parenting skills and especially so from Gibbs, “It was a great opportunity … and she knows Kit and Andi well.  Joe and Pippa are like brother and sister to her.  She’s in safe hands.”

“Long way to go,” said Gibbs.

“Not that far,” protested Tony.

“Not far?  It’s on the other side of the country, DiNozzo!”

“What?”

“Disneyland!  It’s in California … you know, on the other side of the country.”

“Did I say Disneyland?  I meant Disney World,” said Tony in horror.

“Still a long way,” said Gibbs.

“She’s fine,” said Tony firmly although he wondered if he could say the same about himself if he’d got confused about where he’d allowed his daughter to go.

Tony’s cell rang and Gibbs made to answer it, “Leave it,” ordered Tony, “It’s on handsfree,” he didn’t say that part of him didn’t quite trust Gibbs to relay any message to him.  He suspected that Gibbs still held on to the idea that Dinkerly was somehow a misunderstood victim in all this.

The call was from Chief Martin of the Raleigh Police Department, “Tony, we’ve narrowed the location to a farm off the Interstate 95 – we’re texting the exact location to you.  It’s a big place, not been a tobacco farm for years.  There was talk about making it into some sort of heritage attraction, but it never took off.  Looks as if the farm has been rented out but local police say that whoever lives there doesn’t make it into the town very often.”

“How long have they been there, Chief Martin?” asked Gibbs.

“Couple months as far as we can tell, Agent Gibbs.  We’ve been trying to reach out to the owner, but it seems he’s gone to Europe on vacation and none of the local realtors know about any letting arrangement.  Tony, ICE are on their way but Agent Foster-Yates asks if you and Agent Gibbs can scope the place out in advance.  She wants to know what they – we – are up against.”

“Will do,” said Tony.

“And Tony …”

“Ma’am?”

“Carefully.  Understood?  This is ICE’s case, we’re just helping out, remember.”

“I remember,” said Tony as he ended the call and retrieved the text with the precise destination.

XXXXX

“Looks quiet,” said Gibbs a few minutes later as they lay on the top of a hill overlooking the farm.

“Couple cars … don’t think either of them is the one we’ve seen Dinkerly driving before,” commented Tony.

“Those two storage buildings look possible places to keep the workers,” said Gibbs, “How many did you see working?”

“Ten, fifteen.  They’d probably fit it into one of those sheds.  Doubt they’ve got luxury accommodations.  What you think will happen when ICE arrive?”

“Eh?”

“Will they be happy to go along, or will they resist?  They’ve got a lot at stake.”

Gibbs shrugged, “Hard to tell.  Remember those girls we caught who’d been trafficked from China?  They were happy to be rescued but they hadn’t had much choice in the first place.  We don’t know about these guys.”

“They didn’t look happy when I saw them … but they might think what they’ve got is better than what happens if they’re taken into custody.”

Gibbs nodded; they both knew that they could only speculate about what would happen.

“I think we need to get in closer,” said Tony, “Find out which shed they’re being held in.  Might hear something which gives us a clue about how this is going to go down.”

“You sure?”

“What you mean?”

“Didn’t think you were meant to be hands-on in the field now.”

“Yeah, well that hasn’t worked out quite as planned,” grimaced Tony.

“You want to risk it?”

“It’s important.”

“I can go on my own.  One might be quieter than two?”

“You’re still under arrest, Gibbs.  I’m not letting you wander down there on your own!”

“I wouldn’t _wander_ ,” said Gibbs a little huffily, “Marines don’t _wander._ ”

“Sorry, poor choice of words.  I’m not letting you go down there _purposefully and carefully_ on your own!”

So Gibbs and Tony made their way down cautiously.  Fortunately, it seemed it had been a long time since any tidying had been done so bushes were overgrown, and farm equipment had been left to decay where it was last used: this meant there were lots of hiding places for skilled operatives to use.

When they reached the yard with the buildings, they split up to investigate one each.  Tony soon joined Gibbs from the nearer one and whispered, “Mine’s empty … well, no people.  There’s some equipment and a tractor in there.

Gibbs nodded and they moved together and even more cautiously to the second.  They peered through a small dirty window and could see a group of men sitting huddled together.

“Poor bastards,” said Tony.

“Yeah, they don’t look as if they’re going to resist much.  Look as if they need a good meal inside of them.”

“Let’s go,” said Tony a little reluctantly.  Part of him wanted to get them out now but he knew that would be a mistake and, in any case, it wouldn’t be long before their ordeal was over – or, he thought more realistically, this stage of their ordeal would soon be over.  Who knew what lay ahead for them?

Gibbs also hesitated but followed Tony stealthily away.  Once they were a little distance from the sheds, Tony paused briefly to report in quietly on what they had found and then they made their way back to their vehicle.

“Leroy!” came the, to Tony, unpleasant, voice of Barry Dinkerly, “It’s my lucky day, running into you.  I was just driving past and saw a car I recognise from outside Milsom Bay police station.  I didn’t expect you to be in it though!”  He pointed a gun in their direction.

Tony thought about drawing his own weapon but discarded the idea.  If Dinkerly had served with Gibbs it was possible that he was a crack shot and, in any case, they were less than 10 yards away.  Even as he watched, he saw another man with a gun come to stand next to Dinkerly.

“Dink,” said Gibbs in a relieved voice, “You need to tell DiNozzo what’s really going on.  He’s got some crazy ideas about what you’ve been up to, but we can sort it out.”

“Really, Leroy?” said Dinkerly sceptically, “You’re asking me to believe that your golden boy hasn’t convinced you that I’m dirty?”

Tony kept silent, deciding simply to watch what was going on.

Gibbs laughed, a mocking laugh which Tony hadn’t heard before, “Oh, he convinced me all right!  But I already knew you were up to something.  I was going to get you to cut me in.  I figure I could be useful to you in whatever you’re up to!”

Dinkerly also laughed, “You expect me to believe that, Leroy?  You!  The model Marine with _duty_ carved on your heart?  I don’t think so!”

“Look where it’s got me.  On my own, working for a piddling agency nobody ever heard of, for people who didn’t serve and only think about _politics_.  I think it’s time for me to get something for myself.  So, I brought you DiNozzo.  Thought you could finish the job!”

Dinkerly looked at his friend speculatively, obviously trying to assess his truthfulness. 

Tony hoped Gibbs was bluffing: 24 hours ago he would have had no doubts but his trust in Gibbs had been severely dented that day.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to ‘correct’ where Tali had gone – I hadn’t realised there was a difference between Disney World and Disney Land!


	7. Chapter 7

Dinkerly continued to gaze at Gibbs in that speculative manner.  Gibbs stared back but, as if to affirm his intentions, took a firm grip on Tony’s arm lest he decide to make a run for it.

The silence dragged on for a full minute and then Dinkerly laughed, “Hah!  Haven’t got time for this now.  They might have told someone what’s going on, we need to get out of here.”

“What about them?” Dinkerly’s companion nodded towards the farm.

“Leave it,” said Dinkerly with regret, “Haven’t got time to finish them off properly.  We’ll come back later if we can.”

“But …” the other man trailed off when Dinkerly scowled at him, “Yes, Boss.”

Gibbs and Tony were taken to a white van where Tony’s gun was taken from him before he was placed in the back and Gibbs was directed to sit with the others in the front,

“Wouldn’t want you to be hatching any plots, would we?” sneered Dinkerly.

Gibbs huffed, “Don’t want anything to do with him anyway!”

“Yeah, yeah,” came an obviously sceptical reply.

“What about their car?” asked Dinkerly’s man.

“Leave it, Mac,” was the order.

Tony tried to keep track of where they were going but, apart from the feeling that they were travelling along bumpy – and probably unfrequented roads – he could tell nothing.  He hoped that the jerky movements wouldn’t bring on his motion sickness, not out of regard for the van but because it would make him below par and somehow, he felt he needed to be at his best.  He clung to the hope that Gibbs was bluffing.

After fifteen minutes, the van screeched to a halt and a few seconds later the doors of the van were flung open.  Tony blinked against the sudden light but was quick to obey a terse order to get out.

Dinkerly seemed to have come to some sort of decision about Gibbs’ reliability,

“I think we’ll have ourselves some fun,” he announced.

Tony glared at him coldly, he had no high opinion of what his captor would regard as _fun_.

“You remember, Leroy, those training sessions we used to have?” Gibbs nodded.  “Although I guess they weren’t really _fun_ or not for the trainees.  They were fun to watch though.”  Gibbs continued to say nothing, “Hand to hand fighting,” said Dinkerly gloatingly, “Designed to toughen us up.  That’s what you said, wasn’t it, Leroy?”

“Worked, didn’t it?” said Gibbs curtly.

“I think we’ll do it a bit differently this time though.  I figure you can show the Lieutenant how good _your_ hand to hand skills are, Leroy.  Sound _fun_ to you?”

“Sure.”

“But we don’t want the _Lieutenant_ to run away, do we?” he nodded to Mac who seemed to know what to do.  Tony suspected this might be almost routine to them.

Mac moved behind Tony and grabbed his arms and held them behind his back.  Mac had three inches and thirty pounds on Tony and the grip was secure.

“OK, Leroy.  Why don’t you show your _friend_ how hard you can punch?”

Gibbs gazed stonily at Tony, walked up to him and delivered a punch to his midriff.  Tony gasped as he buckled under the blow, “Gone soft, have you, DiNozzo?  All that sitting behind a desk?” mocked Gibbs.

Tony tried a look of disdain as he coughed and spluttered.

“From what I hear,” said Dinkerly, “He won’t be doing that for much longer.  On the skids, I hear, Lieutenant.  Made a mess of the job and you’ll soon be out on your ear!  Although, they might not have time to sack you … do it again, Leroy!  And harder this time!”  Tony suspected he would have rubbed his hands together in glee had one not been holding a gun trained on Gibbs.  Clearly, Dinkerly was not yet convinced of Gibbs’ reliability.

Gibbs threw another punch which once again landed on Tony’s stomach and once again, Tony sagged under the impact.  Dinkerly laughed again, “Don’t stop!  Do it again!”

Gibbs frowned and directed another blow.  This time, Tony fell to the ground under the weight of the blow and took Mac with him.  Even as Dinkerly squealed with delight, there was a blur of movement, the sound of two shots and Dinkerly tumbled to the ground clutching his right arm.  Tony rolled to his feet and pointed the gun at a bewildered Mac.

“Gibbs!  You all right?” asked Tony anxiously as he saw Gibbs sitting on the ground clutching his leg.

“Of course I’m not all right,” snapped Gibbs, “He shot me!”

“You’re OK,” said Tony, “… or you will be,” He went across to where Dinkerly was also sitting and took a quick look at his arm, “Huh, and you’ll be OK too,” there was a hint of disappointment in his voice.  “Gibbs, you OK to watch them?” he asked, “I’m going to find something to tie these clowns up with.”

“Get on with it, just hand me a gun,” said Gibbs.

Tony found some rope in the van, “You got some sort of rope fetish going on?” he demanded of Dinkerly, “Or is it a Marine thing?”

“He’s not a Marine,” snapped Gibbs.

Tony tied Mac up first and then tied Dinkerly’s feet together and, avoiding the wounded arm, managed to attach him securely to a dumpster.

“Why didn’t you go for a kill shot,” grumbled Gibbs as Tony broke out a first aid kit from the van and began to look at Gibbs’ leg, “That’s what I trained you to do!”

“You’re welcome,” snarked Tony back, “But I figured we need Dinkerly alive.  To get you off the hook.”

“Excuse me?”

“If he was dead, he wouldn’t be able to cop to setting the fire.  Don’t forget, at the moment it’s just your word that you didn’t do it.”

“Huh, I guess.  Although I don’t think he’ll be looking to do me any favours.”

Tony wrapped Gibbs wound and then moved, a little reluctantly to look at Dinkerly’s arm, “Be a while before you bleed out,” he commented as he put a bandage on.

Tony walked back to Gibbs, “You were right,” he said.

“About what?”

“Him liking RVs,” Tony gestured to the collection of run-down motor homes which occupied the yard they had pulled up in.  He pointed to one which was less dilapidated, “I’m guessing that’s the one your friend has been using.”

“Not my friend,” groused Gibbs.

“Should mean that help will be on its way,” said Tony placidly.

“I guess,” said Gibbs shifting position a little to ease his leg, “ICE will have found where he had an RV.”

“Or Raleigh PD,” said Tony, wanting to defend the honour of his own department.

“That true, what Dink was saying?” asked Gibbs, “About you losing your job?”

Tony opened his mouth to reply but, hearing the sound of a number of vehicles approaching, changed his mind and said instead, “Hold that thought.  Think the cavalry have arrived!”

And so it proved.  Raleigh PD had indeed located the RV which Dinkerly had rented.  When ICE had arrived at the farm to find only the abandoned car, they had initiated the search of the nearby RV park.

“You’ve been busy,” commented Agent Foster-Yates when she and her fellow agents had assessed the situation.

“Always ready to help Immigration and Customs Enforcement, Agent Foster-Yates,” said Tony cheerfully, “And especially if they’re going to do the paperwork!”

“Agent … I mean, _Lieutenant_ DiNozzo, good to see you again.  Agent Gibbs,” she nodded towards Gibbs who was still sitting on the ground.

“Agent,” nodded Gibbs.

“Should I ask how you managed this?” asked Julia.

“Good old teamwork, Jules,” said Tony smugly, “Mr Dinkerly decided he wanted to watch some fighting and Gibbs obliged … or pretended to.  Good work there, by the way, Gibbs.”

Gibbs shrugged modestly, “Didn’t too bad yourself, Tony.  I thought for a moment I’d actually hurt you there.”

Tony looked outraged, “Hurt me?  With this washboard stomach and six pack abs?  Even if you’d been trying, your punches would just have bounced off!”  Gibbs looked at him sceptically and Tony caved, “All right, I’m very grateful you pulled your punches!”

“Well, ICE is grateful for your help, gentleman,” said Foster-Yates.

“What’s happened to the workers?” asked Tony.

“They’ve been taken into custody.  I think they were almost grateful to be found.  They were running out of food and water, hadn’t been let out of that shed for days …” replied Julia.  “EMT are on their way,” she added, “I’ll tell them they’ll need two ambulances.  I don’t expect you want to go in the same one, do you, Agent Gibbs?”

Gibbs growled his agreement.

XXXXX

“How’d the operation go?” asked Tony the next day when he visited Gibbs in a Wilmington hospital.

“It went,” muttered Gibbs.

Tony looked at his former Boss and detected something like embarrassment on his face.  Gibbs had shrugged off an offer of help to get to his feet and had promptly fallen to the ground when his leg gave way.  Unfortunately, he had fallen on his knee and damaged the cartilage.  The bullet wound was relatively minor but the knee would take longer to heal.  Gibbs had been operated on the previous day and this was the first chance for Tony to visit.

“Are you ready to explain?” asked Tony.

“Explain what?”

“Why you thought it was a good idea to attack me and tie me up?”

“I told you.  Dink said you were on his back; he needed a breathing space.  He seemed desperate and I thought he might be going to do something stupid, maybe even kill himself.  I thought I needed to go along with him, get you out of the way for a while so I could fix things.”

“Even though it meant you having to overpower me?  Tie me up for hours?”

“I figured you could cope with it.  That you’d …”

“What?  Understand?”

Tony had to assume that Gibbs’ silence indicated agreement.

“Why did you do it, Gibbs?”

“I told you.”

“No, I mean why were you so willing to do it for Dinkerly?  He didn’t strike me as particularly deserving of you going out on a limb for him.”

“I served with him.  He was … one of mine.  And …”

“And what?”

“He didn’t cope well with me leaving the Corps.”

“Explain.”

“I guess I rode him hard.  Hell, I rode them all hard, but Dink had potential and I was tough on him.”

“And you think he deserved your help because you were _tough_ on him?” asked Tony sceptically, deciding not to point out how _tough_ Gibbs had been on him without apparently triggering any desire to help him.

“He made Corporal soon after I left …”

“Sounds as if he coped OK,” said Tony unsympathetically.

“But he got busted down pretty quick.  He didn’t take the jump well.”

“And that was your fault?  How?”

“I don’t know, I could’ve prepared him better … got him ready.”

“He was an adult, Gibbs.  If he needed your help – then maybe he wasn’t cut out for it.”

“If I’d been there … anyways, he didn’t react well to being demoted.  He quit as soon as he could and began to try to make it outside.”

Tony sighed, “Gibbs, do you know _why_ he decided to quit?  Why he was being demoted?”

“I told you.  And he reckoned that the officer in charge had it in for him, that he’d never liked _me,_ and he was taking it out on him.  That’s what he told me at the time.”

“And you believe that?”

Gibbs shrugged, “Dink had never lied to me before.  No reason to doubt him about that.”

“Gibbs, Barry Dinkerly is one scary SOB.  When he came back to check on how well you’d tied me up … well, he seemed to enjoy seeing me helpless.  He put that tape – two layers of it – on really carefully and he held my nose until I choked just to make sure that I couldn’t breathe.  And that was before he squeezed my neck until I passed out.  Not to mention setting that fire … and the Fire Chief reckons that it was set deliberately to start slowly and produce a lot of smoke …”

“He wasn’t trying to kill you then?”

“He wasn’t trying to keep me healthy!” said Tony bitterly, “I figure it was all part of his mind games.  He was trying to set you and me at loggerheads – he couldn’t have expected that I’d take you attacking me in my stride but adding the fire in … well, that just made it even worse.  I reckon he thought if I died that would be OK and that there would probably be enough of your DNA and fingerprints left to point to you as the culprit.  And I didn’t die, then I’d hate you and that would be cool too.”

“Why would he want to make you hate me?”

“For one thing it would slow down the investigation and the other … well, perhaps you did too good a job of saying how good I was at the job.  He strikes me as kind of possessive and perhaps that possessiveness has warped into hating you.  And you know, he didn’t have to _say_ anything when he showed up, but he couldn’t resist talking about being in control, about me being at his mercy.”

“Go on.”

“I checked his service record.  Dinkerly was demoted because he was brutal to the Marines he was in charge of.  Excessive use of force, humiliating punishments, demeaning behaviour.  He left the Corps before the book could be thrown at him.  And I figure that fits with what he did at the Bay – ICE have spoken to those illegals.  They were mistreated, humiliated, kept hungry, cold and thirsty – and that was because Dinkerly could do it.  He didn’t need to – in fact, they would probably have worked better if they’d been treated even halfway decently but Dinkerly gets off on power and control.”  Tony gazed at Gibbs, “… but you knew that, didn’t you?  Is that why you had to ride him hard?  To make sure he didn’t lose control?”

“No!  Well, not exactly.  He had control issues; he had a quick temper but that’s all.  I didn’t know about the other stuff.  Tony, you know me better than that!  Do you really think I’d let someone I was responsible for behave like that?”

“I’m not sure how much I know you, Gibbs,” said Tony bleakly.

Gibbs gazed back impassively, and Tony knew that he wouldn’t try to persuade Tony anymore.

“Is this going to happen with every one of the Marines you served with, Gibbs?  Does serving with them outweigh everything else?  Are they all more important than other people, than us?”

“No.”

“Then why Dinkerly?  Why was he so important that you did that to me?”

Gibbs sighed and, the words seemingly dragged out of him, said, “He was Kelly’s godfather.”

Tony sighed as well and felt a wave of helplessness sweep over him.  Of course, the claims of anyone connected to Gibbs’ first family would always override any other ties.

“I see.”

“You understand?”

Tony managed a wry grin, “What?  You reckon that it’s true what they say …”

“What do they say?”

“ _To understand is to forgive_.”

“Is that what you think, Tony.  You said you understand; does that mean you forgive as well?”

Tony didn’t answer but stood up and said with forced cheerfulness, “Millie’s pretty mad at you but she sent you some coffee brownies although she wanted me to point out that she didn’t frost them – that’s a sign of how big a doghouse you’re in!”

He handed Gibbs the box, nodded and left.

“With Millie?  Or with you as well?” Gibbs called after him.  There was no reply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just one more chapter, I think.


	8. Chapter 8

“Appreciate this,” said Gibbs as he manipulated his crutches to get through the door.

The words _you’re welcome_ died unsaid on John Sutherland’s lips and he settled for keeping a close eye on Gibbs’ slightly uncertain progress.  John Sutherland was Tony’s neighbour and one of his oldest friends in Milsom Bay.  John had been away on a painting trip for a couple of days and had missed most of the high drama back in the Bay: that didn’t mean, however, that he didn’t have a pretty good idea of what had been happening.  The Milsom Bay grapevine was vigorous and efficient and hadn’t had something this juicy to chew on since … well, the last time Tony had got into trouble!

Gibbs was stoical and used to his own company but the two days he had spent in hospital had been trying even for him.  Ducky’s visits had been models of cool politeness while Millie had continued to provide baked treats not quite up to her usual standard.  They had both studiously avoided talking about the _elephant in the room_ although Gibbs suspected that Ducky’s restraint, at least, would disappear once he had left hospital – he thought that the Hippocratic oath might contain something about not hitting a patient while they were down.

Gibbs had gathered that Tony had gone back to work in Raleigh but was expected, with Tali, at the weekend.  Gibbs remembered the odd accusation from Dinkerly that Tony would soon be out of a job but his tentative attempts at probing this had led to a feeling that he was punching benign but indifferent marshmallow. 

The hospital wanted his bed, but Gibbs could not drive himself back to Washington and he hesitated to summon one of his team to drive him instead: it wasn’t that Gibbs exactly regretted his actions towards Tony but he didn’t relish being probed by anyone else about it.  Milsom Bay kindness had won out in the end although both Millie and Ducky asserted that they did not have a ground floor bedroom suitable for someone on crutches.  John had stepped up with an offer of the spare room in his one floor cabin which, somewhat to his surprise, had been accepted.  John had always harboured a sense of guilt surrounding the manner of his first meeting with Gibbs but now he wondered if his actions had been right after all.

Part of Gibbs regretted that he hadn’t found a hotel room somewhere he could be on his own and avoid the inevitable awkward conversations which lay ahead.  It seemed that Millie and John were waiting to take their cue from Tony and, in the meantime, were continuing to be polite but noncommittal but courteous small talk wasn’t one of Gibbs’ talents.  The other part of Gibbs, however, thought it was probably better to be in John’s cabin which was next door to Tony’s and therefore made a meeting with Tony more likely.  Gibbs knew he had fences to mend with his former agent, but he was doubtful of the best approach.

“I care about Tony, you know,” he said abruptly as he lowered himself on to the couch.

John raised a sceptical eyebrow in a way similar to that often employed by Gibbs, “Not sure I’d want to see what you do to people you _don’t_ care for!” he offered mildly.

“Humph.”

“Gibbs, you remember what we talked about all those years ago?  The first time you stayed here?”

Gibbs scowled as he remembered the circumstances about _why_ he had needed to stay with John, “Remind me.”

“You told me that you’d die for Tony.”

“Damned straight.  I’d still say that and mean it.”

John cleared his throat, “And I said that Tony would prefer it if you’d _live_ for him.  You know, that sometimes you have to decide to do things differently because otherwise you end up hurting people you care for.  You can’t be a two-ton truck hurtling along and knocking everyone down even if you’re sure you’re on the right road.  And I’d still say that and mean it.”

Gibbs nodded reluctantly but before he could reply there was an imperious knock at the door and Ducky came bustling in.  John took one look at his face and decided he needed to pay an urgent visit to Millie; Gibbs also took one look at Ducky’s face and recognised that the temporary truce was over now that Gibbs was out of hospital.

“Spit it out,” he said resignedly.

“ _Spit_ is an apposite word, Jethro.  I have rarely understood the phrase _spitting mad,_ but it sums up my feelings of _rage_ all too well.  What in heaven were you thinking?”  He paused for a second, but Gibbs guessed that the question was rhetorical and wisely kept silent, “You know, Jethro, you are one of my oldest and dearest friends but there are times when you completely baffle me.  You are capable of acts of great kindness – and indeed, I have been the frequent recipient of those acts of good will – and then you do something like this!”  He stopped and glared at Gibbs who, once again, opted for silence.

“I understand from Anthony that you assaulted him … and yes, I use the word _assaulted_ advisedly … because you had a half-baked idea that it was necessary as a stratagem to assist your friend Mr Dinkerly …”

Gibbs considered objecting to the term _half-baked_ but decided Ducky wasn’t yet in the mood for discussion.

“… and I have to say, Jethro that had you considered consulting me before acting in such a hare-brained and misjudged manner, I would have objected in the most strenuous terms.  But, of course,” Ducky sighed wearily, “It would not, I fear, occur to you to take advice in such a matter.  You know, Jethro, it is sometimes a requirement in a conversation for the other person present to _speak_!”

Gibbs wanted to point out that, so far, he had not been given much of an opportunity to put his point of view but felt that this would be dancing around the main point of the discussion so he swallowed down his irritation to say, “Didn’t know that the place would catch fire, Duck!”

“I should hope not indeed!  And, I have to say, that if I had any suspicion that you _did_ think it was a possibility, I should wipe my hands of you immediately.”

Taking this to mean that there was a chance their friendship would survive, Gibbs ventured to say, “If the fire hadn’t started, it would have been OK.”

Perhaps talking of the fire was unwise as it kindled a flame of anger in Ducky once more, “ _Would have been OK_!  _OK?_   Good heavens, Jethro under what circumstances could you possibly feel that it was _OK_ to attack Anthony in that way?  You forget that I saw the way that Anthony had been tied to that chair …”

“I didn’t put the duct tape on.  In fact, I put the gag on deliberately that he could breathe through his mouth,” offered Gibbs.

“Oh,” said Ducky with mock relief, “Well, that makes it all right, doesn’t it?  I mean, if you gagged him so he could breathe.  I really don’t know why we all so up in arms about the episode!”

“I served with Dink …”

“You _served_ with Anthony,” said Ducky acidly.

“He was Kelly’s godfather,” said Gibbs bleakly.

“Ah, Jethro,” said Ducky compassionately, “And that is where all roads lead with you, is it not?  I can only begin to glimpse the pain of your loss, your family wiped out in that dreadful way …”

Gibbs managed a bare nod in acknowledgement as he glanced at the tragedy which continued to stalk him.

“I do not by any means advocate that you should _forget_ your girls but Jethro, it has been many years since their sad demise, and you have acquired other people who are deserving of your loyalty.”

“You accusing me of disloyalty?”

“Why, of course I am.  How else would you describe the attack on Anthony?”

“DiNozzo is strong, I figured he could take it.”

“I see.  And did it occur to you to speak with him about it before deciding on such a drastic step?  Did you try to ascertain what the true nature of Mr Dinkerly’s activities was?  You would, surely, have trusted Anthony’s opinion on the matter?”

Gibbs nodded briskly, “Always trusted DiNozzo.  Best agent I ever worked with.”

“And yet … and yet, you thought your actions would be acceptable to Anthony?”

“Tony rolls with the punches.  I figured he’d trust that I had a reason for … doing what I did.”

“And when you were tying him up with such ruthless efficiency, did you take the opportunity to tell him that there was a reason for your actions?  Ask him to trust you?”

“No … there wasn’t time …”

“Ah, of course.  You are such a verbose and longwinded person that any explanation would have taken several minutes if not hours,” said Ducky sarcastically, “You didn’t even think to say two words, _trust me_?  Or _I’m sorry_?”

“I didn’t mean for him to get hurt.  I thought he’d just be there for a while until someone came to open up.  I told him that he’d be all right.”

“And it didn’t occur to you perchance, to tie him up loosely enough that he could effect an escape?”

“Needed to do it right,” said Gibbs.

“Why?  Did you suspect that your friend might come and check your handiwork?” pressed Ducky sharply.

“Couldn’t take that risk.  Dink needed to know that he could trust me to do what I said I’d do.”

“So, it was only Anthony who didn’t need to know he could trust you?” said Ducky sadly.

“He knew he could trust me.”

“How was he meant to know that?  Jethro, let me explain.  Your team have come to accept that you have great loyalty and attachment to anyone who was connected to your late family – and in many ways, that loyalty is admirable – but they also feel that, in a hierarchy of loyalty, they will always come a very poor second.  And that, I fear, does not foster the sense of loyalty that you set such store by.”

“I did what I thought I needed to do,” said Gibbs, “Can’t help it if it didn’t work out.”

Ducky sat down in a chair opposite Gibbs and sighed, “You know, Jethro I cannot help but wonder that if it had been I who had _stood in the way_ as you perceived Anthony to – would you have done the same to me?”

Gibbs gazed back at Ducky, “No point dealing with _what-ifs_ , Duck.  Didn’t happen.”

“Did you agonise over the decision to bind Anthony?  Was it an easy decision to make, Jethro?”

“You know me, Duck.  Decisions have to be made and then we stand by them.  That’s the way it is, the way it has to be.”

“Why?  Why does it have to be that way?  And what happened to your rule 51 – sometimes you’re wrong?”

“What do you mean?  Of course, sometimes we’re wrong.”

“But do you ever consider that _before_ you act?  Or do you always go with your _gut_ and believe you are right?  Do you never have doubts?”

“Doubting doesn’t help, Duck.”

“Oh, Jethro … “

“You think DiNozzo will forgive me?”

“You think he has something to forgive?  I got the impression that perhaps you felt that he, and everyone else, was overreacting in some way.”

“You know what I mean.  Do you think he’ll get over it?”

“You mean, will he _roll with the punches_ this time as so many times before?”

“And what’s this about him losing his job?  What’s going on there?”

A baffled Ducky stared back at Gibbs – it seemed that he thought that, having discussed the matter, it was now closed, “I think both questions are ones that you should direct to Anthony.  It is for him to decide.  And hark, I believe I may hear him coming now.”

Ducky was right, they both heard voices drawing nearer.

“I want to see Uncle John,” came Tali’s voice.

“All right, but he might not be in.  He might be down at Nana Millie’s.”

“Cake time?” asked Tali in a tone which suggested she could be diverted.

“Uncle John does like Nana Millie’s cakes,” agreed Tony.

“Me too!”

“Knock the door,” ordered Tony.

There was a brief knock and then Tali burst through.

“Wait!” said Tony, “Oh well, too late.  Tali, you know we talked about waiting for the door to be answered.”

“I got present for him,” said Tali, “He want it.”

Tony sighed as he realised he’d need to postpone a lesson in manners for another time.  He tried to take comfort in the idea that Tali was as excited about giving a present as receiving one.

“John,” he began, “I’m sorry but …”

“Uncle Jefro!” squealed Tali, “You’re here.  Daddy didn’t tell me!”  Her face split into a beaming smile as she saw one of her favourite people and she ran towards him with arms outstretched for a hug.

Tony found his own face breaking into a smile as he saw his daughter’s delight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to let Ducky have his say – which always takes a while, so Tony’s conversation will now be in the next (and hopefully) final chapter.


	9. Chapter 9

"Gently, Tali," said Tony as he observed his daughter's headlong rush, "Uncle Jethro's got a bad leg."

Tali came to an exaggerated halt and gazed at Gibbs, "Tali kiss it better?" she suggested, "Like Daddy does with me?"

"That would be very nice of you," smiled Gibbs.

A somewhat sloppy kiss was delivered. Ducky tore his eyes away from the scene to look at Tony who, with a flick of his eye, silently ordered him to leave. Ducky was momentarily taken aback, it was unusual for Tony to assert himself, but he soon recognised the wisdom of departing.

"Miss Tali, I wonder, would you do me the great honour of accompanying me to your Nana Millie's cafeteria? You could perhaps give me an account of your recent vacation in one of Mr Disney's amusement parks?"

Tali looked at him and giggled. She rarely understood more than half of what Ducky said but she was fascinated by him and did not often decline an opportunity to spend time with him. This time, however, she looked at her father a little uncertainly,

"It's all right, Tali," he reassured her, "Daddy'll be along soon. Go with Ducky."

She nodded happily, gave him a hug around his knees and then went off, hand in hand with Ducky.

"I wonder," they heard him say as they left, "If you happened to meet a distant cousin of mine on your travels? I believe he spends some time in Disney World … his name is Donald Duck …"

"Separation anxiety?" said Gibbs. It was unusual for Tali to hesitate to go off with a friend.

"A bit," acknowledged Tony, "Think she missed me after all."

Gibbs nodded at the proud smile on Tony's face.

"Ducky give you a hard time?" asked Tony with a grin.

Gibbs grinned back, "Some. Hey, Dink said something about you losing your job. Is that right?"

Tony frowned, "Might have guessed you'd remember that! Seeing as he said that I'd messed up."

"Is it true?"

Tony scowled again, "What? That I messed up or that I'm losing my job?"

"I don't think you messed up," said Gibbs, "But was he right about you being out of a job?"

"Why? You got something in mind?"

"Vance would have you back," said Gibbs, "Or you could go back to the FBI. I could put out some feelers for you."

"Call in some favours?"

"Sure, glad to."

"Thanks, Gibbs. Good to know that you think I wouldn't let you down."

Gibbs decided to ignore the sarcasm, "Hey, you and I worked well together. We fooled Dink with me pretending to hit you, didn't we?"

"I guess. And yes, Dinkerly was right – I am _potentially_ out of a job."

"How so? I thought you were settled at Raleigh?"

"I was … I am. The CAFALO job relies on funding from the State and some of the Federal agencies but it's been a victim of its own success."

"What?"

"The agencies see that it worked well and want to expand it. Means they'll pulling the funding and putting it into something bigger. The Chief can't keep the post going without the funding … so it's going to go."

"When?"

"End of the financial year. There's a vacancy coming up in the Criminal Investigation Department so I could go and head that up as Lieutenant …"

"But?"

"The CAFALO job worked because it wasn't hands-on investigation. I still figure I owe it to Tali to stay alive a few more years."

"Wasn't there talk of you being Chief here in the Bay?"

Tony laughed, "If Lew ever gets around to retiring! Yeah, I reckon he'd go if he thought I'd take over …"

"But you don't want to?"

"I thought about it … and I like it here and I like the people but I'm not sure I want to live here full-time yet. I still like the bright lights – I mean, I'm not saying that the bright lights of Raleigh are that bright but they're certainly brighter than the ones in Milsom Bay. And … well, I'm not sure I want to be the police in the place where I live. I'd rather be able to switch off a bit when I come here."

"Makes sense. You want me to talk to Vance then? Might be something in Norfolk. He sometimes talks about putting a team in there."

Tony shook his head, "Thanks, but no thanks. Never works, going back somewhere. Besides, there's something else on the table."

"What?"

"Remember I said that the agencies want to set up something that does part of I did when I was CAFALOing?"

"Haven't lost my memory yet, DiNozzo."

"Well, I'm in the running to head up the … whatever it will be … in North Carolina. Some sort of taskforce, I think."

"And you're going to do it?"

"Don't know yet. Haven't got to decide yet but it'd be interesting to get involved with starting something up. It's going to be based in either Charlotte or Raleigh, but I think I could swing it for Raleigh."

"Well done, Tony!"

"Wow. You managed to say that without sounding surprised, Gibbs!"

Gibbs refused to rise to the challenge, "Always knew you were good at the job, Tony! Didn't say it much but …"

"And I did a good job as acting Chief," said Tony firmly, "And I've done a good job as CAFALO."

"Never doubted it."

"Except when it came to me investigating a friend of yours."

Gibbs sighed, he had hoped that the issue of Dinkerly had been forgotten in the comfortingly normal conversation they had just had, "I thought you said that you understood?"

"I do understand, Gibbs."

"Then we can move on."

"Just because I understand doesn't mean that everything's OK. I mean, I _understand_ when Tali throws a tantrum when I don't agree that she's right to want to stay up late; I _understand_ when she thinks it's OK to feed Ruskin the food off her dinner plate she's decided she doesn't like. I _understand_ but it doesn't mean I think she's right or that I let her get away with any of that. If I let her grow up thinking that she can do whatever she wants so long as she thinks it's the _right_ thing to do … well, she's going to have a pretty unhappy – and frustrating – life."

"You think that's what I've got? An unhappy and frustrating life?"

"Your words, Gibbs, not mine."

"Tony, I thought it was the right thing to do."

"I know but I still don't understand how you thought it was going to work."

"Excuse me?"

"Let's say that your friend Dinkerly hadn't come back to add his own touches and set the place alight … let's say that _all_ that happened was that you'd tied me up for a few hours. Eventually someone would have shown up and untied me. What did you think I'd say? That I didn't mind because it was _you_ that had done it?"

"I figured that you'd trust that I had a reason for doing it."

"Ducky told me once that you'd said to me that apologies weren't a sign of weakness between friends. I guess you think that explanations aren't needed between friends either."

"That's right."

"And you didn't think to trust me enough to find out what I was investigating Dinkerly about?"

"Wasn't a matter of trust."

"No, I forgot. It was about you doing what you thought was right."

"It's all I can do, Tony. It's all any of us can do."

"And you didn't do any – I don't know – weighing up of probabilities? You know, that perhaps I, who you'd worked with for years, might be on the right track with Dinkerly? But you were willing to disregard all those years you'd known me in favour of someone you hadn't seen for years? Just because he was Kelly's godfather?"

"I didn't see it that way."

"No, I guess you didn't."

"But I am sorry, Tony."

"What? Between friends?"

"Yes."

"And what are you sorry about? That you were wrong about Dinkerly? Wrong about not trusting my judgement?"

"Yes?"

"Sorry for betraying me?"

"I didn't betray you. I never meant for you to be hurt or in danger. You must know that."

"Must I? You weren't exactly gentle, you know."

"I knew you could take it. You're tough."

"You know, for a moment or two I almost thought it was a compliment – the way you tied me up so securely. I thought it meant that you thought I could escape unless you did your 'best' work."

"I did."

"Which is sad, when you think about it. That tying me up really well is how you show you care."

Gibbs didn't reply, his supply of words was never vast and now he'd run out.

Tony sighed, "Gibbs, I understand why you did it. I don't think you intended for me to be hurt. I believe you when you say that you thought I'd suck it up and trust you …"

"Thank you."

"You do know that you're going to be charged with stuff relating to what you did to me?"

"Yes."

"I'm kinda relieved that it wasn't up to me whether or not you're charged," Tony said thoughtfully. "But I want you to know that I'm not going to change my statement about what happened."

"Wouldn't expect you to."

"Even if I wanted to there were too many people who witnessed me being carried out of the hall. And changing my statement would mean lying … and I'm not going to do that."

"I understand."

"And if I'm called to give evidence, I'll tell the truth. I'll tell them exactly what you did."

"Yes."

"But it looks as if you won't be charged with setting the fire or conspiracy to set it. You weren't wearing gloves when you tied me up and made no effort to hide your identity. There were no fingerprints on the heater or the fuse box and Dinkerly wore gloves – that makes it more likely that he set the fire. So, your statement that you didn't set the fire and didn't know anything about it, has been accepted."

Gibbs nodded.

Tony looked almost amused for a moment, "And I wouldn't be surprised – with a good defence lawyer and a sympathetic jury – if you get off. Somehow your _explanation_ will be accepted."

Gibbs shrugged; he might not like lawyers, but he knew several good ones.

"What did Vance say?"

"I'm suspended pending the outcome of the trial. Not that I'd be out in the field with this leg," he tapped his knee moodily.

"Sort of ironic really," observed Tony.

"Excuse me?"

"If you'd accepted my hand up from the ground, you wouldn't have fallen and bust the knee. Sums all this up really, doesn't it?"

"I guess," said Gibbs with a wry grin, "So, are we OK now?"

Tony paused, "No, we're not."

"You said you understood why I did what I did," protested Gibbs.

"I do understand but that doesn't mean I think you were right. If I thought you were right, then perhaps I would be able to forgive you … but I don't. And you know what the worst thing was?"

"What?"

"When you came into the hall you held out your hand. And I was pleased, I thought you were going to shake me by the hand – you know, like friends do. But it was a trap, a way of taking me off-guard. It was a Judas kiss, Gibbs. And that really counts as betrayal in my book."

"I'm sorry, Tony," said Gibbs, "If I'd known …"

Tony raised a hand to stop him, "Gibbs, there's nothing left for either of us to say so let's just stop, eh?"

Gibbs nodded and reached for his crutches.

"What are you doing?" asked Tony.

"I'll get out. I'll call someone to come and pick me up. You won't want me around."

"There's no need and besides you'll need to check with the courts if it's OK for you to leave. Gibbs, our friendship – if that's what it ever was – has taken a hit … and I don't know if I'll ever trust you again but Tali loves you and I think you care for her. So, I'm not going to shut you out of our lives – it's up to you now."

"I guess I can't ask for more than that," said Gibbs.

"No, you can't."

So, Gibbs stayed on in Milsom Bay for a few more days until his leg healed enough for him to be able to drive back. The Milsom Bay residents were their usual kind and polite selves, but a lot of warmth had gone in their interactions with Gibbs: at times, he found it harder to bear their calm courtesy than it would have been to cope with open animosity.

On the surface, and especially when Tali was around, Tony was the same as always, but Gibbs knew that he had retreated somehow and was treating being Gibbs' friend as a role he was required to play while undercover. Gibbs could only hope that, one day, the role would become real again - he knew that the road to that could be a long one but it was a road he was determined to travel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end at last! Thank you to everyone who has taken an interest in this story and made suggestions. I don't excuse what Gibbs did, but I suspect, in canon, Gibbs would somehow manage to escape any real legal consequences … but it may be that the real consequence he regrets is the potential loss of Tony.
> 
> The characters are back (recovering from being put through the emotional wringer) in their NCIS boxes – fortunately for them, I don't own them.


	10. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did not expect to revisit the story so soon – or in this way. So, if you were happy with the original ending, please don’t read this epilogue.

Tony was true to his word and allowed Gibbs to maintain his friendship with Tali.  Gibbs visited the DiNozzos periodically but only when they were in Raleigh; so far as Tony was aware Gibbs had not been in Milsom Bay since he had been well enough to drive back to DC.  The visits were usually relatively brief but that was OK as Tali’s attention span was limited and Tony and Gibbs had little to talk about.  Tony deliberately did not bring up the subject of any upcoming court appearances or what was happening at NCIS: each man preferred to focus on the latest Gibbs offering for Tali’s doll house.

That pattern had continued for around five months and then, as Tony prepared to take Tali to the Bay for a week’s vacation, he realised they hadn’t seen Gibbs for nearly three months.  He wondered whether to call and find out if there was a problem but stopped as, somehow, he didn’t think that was something he did anymore.

The DiNozzos, along with nanny/housekeeper Alice Hardman, made their way to the Bay where Tony was not surprised to see Douglas Sutherland – John’s somewhat unsatisfactory son – waiting for them.  Tali squealed with delight (for a reason Tony had never been able to fathom, Tali adored Doug) and Alice blushed.  Tony squashed a smile as he did a mental high-five with himself as he realised he had been right to think that there was a burgeoning romance between the two.

Doug and Alice took Tali down to Millie’s thus allowing Tony time to empty the car and get the cabin ready.  It was as Tony went out into the small yard behind the cabin that he saw they had another visitor.

“Gibbs,” he said in the cool voice that was now his preferred way of addressing his former Boss.

“Tony,” Gibbs nodded, “McGee mentioned you were going to be here.  I made Tali this swing, wondered if it’d OK to hang it from this tree?”

“Sure.  She’d love it.  She’s gone to see Millie with Doug and Alice.”

Tony turned away to go back into the cabin, leaving Gibbs to get on with it.

“Er … Tony …”

Tony turned back at an unfamiliar tone to Gibbs’ voice.  He looked more closely and saw that other things were unfamiliar, not least that Gibbs’ hair had grown longer and he had put on weight.

“Gibbs?”

“I-I wanted to talk to you …”

“OK,” said Tony in an uninviting voice.

“Mind if we sit down?”

“Sure,” said Tony reluctantly.

Gibbs and Tony sat down on a bench set Gibbs had made in happier times, but Gibbs didn’t speak immediately.  Tony allowed the silence to extend for a few seconds and then said, “It was you who wanted to speak, Gibbs!”

“The trial is coming up next month.”

“Yeah?  Guess I’ll get a date to give evidence.”  The firm tone indicated that Tony wouldn’t be changing his account anytime soon.

“Admiral Chegwidden is my lawyer.”

Tony nodded: this was no surprise; the former Judge Advocate General of the Navy had represented Gibbs before.

“He’s got the charge reduced to a misdemeanour,” continued Gibbs.

Tony nodded again: this also was not a surprise.  Gibbs was of previously good character and ICE didn’t want too much attention drawn to the case as they were still investigating the case against Dinkerly who was proving only too willing to tell them what he knew about other people trafficking organizations.  Dinkerly was still going to go down for a long time but he seemed to have decided he wanted other people to go down as well.  “OK,” he said noncommittally.

“The Admiral gave me hell,” said Gibbs ruefully.

“Hmm.”

“Think he would have thrown me to the wolves but … well, he didn’t.  And I reckon Vance applied some pressure, didn’t want the bad publicity of a NCIS agent getting charged with a felony.”

“Sure,” said Tony in the same neutral tone.

“I went to the cabin – stayed there for a while,” said Gibbs.

“Yeah?”

“Trying to get my head straight.”

“Gibbs, what are you trying to say?”

“Went to see General Ellison too.  You remember him?”

Tony vaguely remembered General Ellison from the case when they had first met Chaplain Burke – he was one of Gibbs’ former commanding officers, “Yeah.”

“Told him what had happened.”

Tony stirred impatiently; he was in no mood for yet another _explanation_ of the reasons behind what Gibbs had done.

“And that’s when I went down to the cabin.  Did some thinking.  You know, I thought I liked being on my own …”

Tony was surprised by this, “What?  You don’t like being alone?”

“Turns out I like it if it’s by choice.  Not so much if it’s forced on me.”

“Who’s forcing you to be on your own, Gibbs.  Seems it’s up to you what you do.”

“General Ellison told me there’s a difference between confidence and arrogance.”

“Yeah?”

“Told me I’d got the two confused.  Told me it wasn’t the only thing I’d got confused about, that old loyalties were good but so were new ones.”

“And?”

“Felt like I was back at Boot Camp being dressed down by a particularly loud and opinionated drill instructor.”

“So?  What did you say to the General?”

“Nothing.  Don’t talk back to someone like the General.  I just walked out.”

“Huh.  And the Admiral, what did he say?”

“Much the same.  Didn’t hesitate.  Didn’t need to think about it.  Told me I was an idiot, but he’d represent me despite me being me.”

“And?”

“I saw him the day before I saw the General.  Went straight home, packed and went to the cabin.  I’d had enough of people telling me what to do.”

Silence fell once more and it was a few seconds before Tony prompted Gibbs, “I’m guessing there’s more to say?”

“I spent weeks down in the cabin.  Thinking, getting mad, being bored.  I’ve got enough wood chopped to see me through five winters …”

“And?”

“And one day, I was fishing when things sort of fell into place.”

“How so?”

“I could still see why I did what I did …”  Tony sighed and made to get up.  Gibbs gestured for him to stay sitting, “But I suddenly saw it from everyone else’s point of view, and I saw it from _your_ point of view.  The General was right, I was so sure that _I_ was right that I hadn’t thought about any of the implications.  I mean, I trusted you completely, I was so sure that you’d understand … but I didn’t stop to think how much I trusted how good you are at your job and that I should have realised that you wouldn’t be on Dink’s back for nothing.”

“Go on.”

“My … loyalty to you should have been important.  I should have remembered how much I depended on you when you worked for me.  Maybe it had been too long since anyone had stood up to me and challenged one of my decisions – that’s what you and Ducky used to do.  I’d got too used to being right … too used to doing things which other people thought were crazy, but which turned out to be right.  I’d gone from being confident to being arrogant.”

“I see.”

“And I suddenly thought, why did I do all this for someone I served with for a few years and ignoring what _you_ meant to me.  After all, you’d worked with me far longer than I served with Dink, but I was willing to throw all that away.  And so pointlessly … if I had concerns about Dink, I should have brought them to you but no, I had to try and be …”

“The hero, the maverick,” finished Tony softly.

“Yeah, I guess,” admitted Gibbs.  “I didn’t want to see it.  Refused to see it although everyone else could.  I figure that part of me tying you up like I did was about wanting to be in control, in charge.  There were a dozen ways I could’ve done things differently – I see that now.”

“And what does all this mean?”

Gibbs gazed at Tony, “I want to apologise, Tony.  I’m sorry for what I did and I’m sorry for not trusting you.”

“And what happens next?”

“The Admiral figures I’ll get a fine and some sort of community service order.  The juvenile detention centre in Raleigh runs practical skills classes – they’re interested in having some woodworking classes.  That could be my community service.”

“Hmm.  And what about NCIS?  How would that fit in?”

Gibbs sighed, “I’ve resigned.”

“Excuse me?”

“NCIS has been good to me.  I figured it’s time for me to be good to them.  Resigning saves them some embarrassment.  Saves them the trouble of firing my sorry ass …”

“What will you do?  You said you were bored …”

“Couldn’t stay for ever, Tony.  Maybe that’s part of the problem.  Fighting too hard to stay on, trying to prove I was the best … made me do some stupid things, made me too impatient.  What would have been wrong with me keeping an eye on Dink to make sure he didn’t do anything stupid while working with you to sort things out?  But it would’ve taken longer, not been so dramatic …”

“Sounds like you’ve been thinking …”

“Even got me a therapist, she’s making me see things differently.  I’m renting the house out.”

“What?”

“Thought of selling it … General Ellison said he thought I was living too much in the past, that memories from yesterday were distorting how I see _today_ … so might be a good idea to get away from the house.  Don’t think I could get rid of it completely yet …”

“Baby steps,” murmured Tony, “So, where are you going to live?”

Gibbs didn’t answer directly, “What’s happening with you?  What happened about the job?”

Tony laughed, “The bean counters got to work and realised the task force was a non-starter!”

“Why?” asked Gibbs bristling with anger than Tony’s job opportunity had been snatched away.

“If they established a task force in North Carolina they’d have to explain why they weren’t going to set one up in every state – and having one in every state would definitely blow the budget!  So the local agencies decided it was cheaper to keep the funding as it is … and a couple more agencies have decided to chip in.  Chief Laura has raised some money to boost the links to the community …”

“And?”

“Turns out that they can afford to keep me in my job _and_ let me keep Colin Hardman as a deputy.  Office is being expanded, we’re going to have the final say on cases going cold and doing some investigation into _old_ cold cases.  I’ll deputise for Laura when she needs it so it’s all good.”

“I’m glad,” said Gibbs.

“Me too.  The task force would’ve been exciting, but I like the mix of what I’m doing now.  Turns out I’d miss all the donuts and cream cakes at the Ladies’ Circle events!”

“The Pink House …”

“You mean the Marine Corps Caldwell Rehabilitation Centre?”

“Yeah, don’t see that name catching on anytime soon!  Anyway, they’re going to run classes for guys who are convalescing … woodwork, boat building … they’ve offered them to me.  It’d only be part-time, but I figure it would be enough for me.”

“Sounds good.”

“But it’s up to you.”

“Excuse me?”

“They’ve got accommodation for instructors.  I could live there but I won’t do it if you’re not OK with it, Tony.  I know I’ve got fences to mend with you but if you don’t want to … then I’ll understand.”

This time, Tony let the silence extend before saying,

“You’re an arrogant SOB, Gibbs!”

“Yes.”

“With impulse issues!”

“Yes.”

“And you make some bad decisions!”

“Agreed.”

“But you’re sorry?”

“Yes, I’m sorry.  And I’m not saying it because I want to get back in your good books.  I’m saying it because it’s true.  I know I’ve let you down … I thought _Semper Fi_ was my watchword but … perhaps it wasn’t.  Remember the time I let Ziva stay behind in Israel?”  Tony nodded.  “I should’ve remembered that.  I made the right choice that day … I didn’t make the right choice when I attacked you.”

“No arguments here.”

“So?  What do I tell the Marine Corps?”

Tony stood up.  Gibbs tensed as he waited the reply.

“Tell the Corps they have an instructor.  Apology accepted, Gibbs.”  Tony looked at Gibbs and realised that the unfamiliar thing about Gibbs was not the longer hair and thicker waistline but a measure of contentment: perhaps he had finally faced down his demons and was ready to move on.

Gibbs stood up as well.  He suspected they still had some way to go before full trust was restored but it looked as if they were both ready to give it a go.

“Thank you, Tony.”

Tony hesitated and then he did something he’d never expected to do again, he held out his hand to be shaken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise to those people who will feel that I let Gibbs off too lightly – please don’t moan at me too much but, in the end, I decided that Gibbs could have a change of heart and see how much he had hurt people. Also (although we know he has done questionable things in the past) he hasn’t been in court before so I thought it was possible he would escape prison on this occasion.  
> I also wanted to be able to return to Milsom Bay in the future and thought it would be difficult with the shadow of a Gibbs estrangement hanging over everything.


End file.
